Dauntless and Scared
by Icanusebigwordstoo
Summary: When Beatrice Prior begins school at a new boarding school, she finds a whole new way of living and escapes from her suffocating life as the daughter of one of Chicago's most important politicians. But when it seems that her principal, Jeanine Matthews, her mentor, Four, and the rest of her school house have it out for her, Tris feels more alone than ever. -I swear you'll love it.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Beatrice

For most 15 year olds, their bedroom is like a window to their personality. Just from looking into it you can tell what their favorite colors are, what kind of music they like, and what they are interested in. Not with mine. My bedroom kind of resembles the inside of a jail cell. The walls and ceiling are grey, and there was very little in it besides a small, practical desk and a crappy little cot. Not that I need much more than this. It would be selfish to want it. And I am not allowed to be selfish.

"Beatrice," My brother, Caleb, calls. His wide shoulders fill the doorframe, and his eyes, green as moss, squint at me. " What are you doing? We are going to miss the bus, and then our plane ride, and then, our first day at school. Hurry up."

It takes all of my strength not to roll my eyes. I love my brother but I hate when he patronizes me. Anyways, rolling my eyes would be rude. I am not allowed to be rude.

Shaking off my annoyance, I roll out of my tiny cot, and roll out of the thin grey blankets I had cocooned myself in overnight. The watch on my desk, the only accessory my brother and I are allowed to wear, reads 6:45. I still have twenty minutes until the bus comes. I glower at Caleb in my head. I reach into my dresser and pull out my outfit for the day. Maybe, if my parents weren't the way they are, I would be stressing out about what I would wear on my first day of high school, but as it is, I don't have a lot of choices, just long grey skirts and loose shirts. I could wish for more flattering clothes, maybe even ask my parents for them, but I still wouldn't be that pretty. Besides, it would be vain. I am not allowed to be vain.

It is 6:55 when I come downstairs. My brother is already making breakfast in the kitchen, my mother is cleaning up, smiling at me as I walk in and my father is reading the newspaper. They look so content, peaceful. This is when I feel guiltiest about leaving them.

My father is a politician. I'm not quite sure what his job entails, but I know he works with Marcus Eaton, the mayor of Boston on some project. He believes in manners, charity, and most of all, conformity. All of our actions should revolve around other people and our hobbies should consist of constantly being polite, putting our own interests aside, and helping the homeless. Not that exciting, but it's a simple lifestyle, very safe and pure.

"Beatrice, we are going to miss you," My father whispers. He picks up his coffee and turns back to me. "You're going to do great." He kisses me on the top of my head.

"He's right sweetie. There's nothing to be scared of," My mother assures me. I'm not sure how they knew I was nervous. Just a parent thing, I guess.

We all share goodbyes and 'I love you' s and Caleb and I head out to the bus stop.

The bus sucks. It is packed with commuters and students all heading to their destinations. It smells so strongly of exhaust that it makes me sick to my stomach. I look up at Caleb, who is standing at the front of the bus. He had just given his seat to another man. Of course he had. Caleb is a natural, the perfect Abnegation. His eyes scan the crowded bus, trying to forget himself and focus on others. We are in the same year, but we are not twins, just brother and sister. Sometimes I hate him for being so good at being selfless, and pleasing our parents. He just fits in the way I wish I did: easily. I know where he will belong at our new school, with the other grey-clad kids, in their clique. I'm not so sure about myself. The bus shutters to a stop. We are at the airport.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Beatrice

The flight is uneventful. We sit on the plane for several hours; I listen to music on my iPod and Caleb reads. When we get to Boston Logan International Airport, a bus meets us. The ride is only supposed to take half an hour. I use this time to go over what I know about the school itself.

I know that it has five dormitories, and they each have a reputation: Abnegation, Amity, Candor, Dauntless, and Erudite. I also know that it is in a different time zone than my hometown, Chicago, IL. I know that my parents would expect me to pick Abnegation, as Abnegation is the charitable group. I know that the school has a more specialized approach to learning, and allows you to specialize in what you want to learn earlier, but that is all. I haven't seen it yet. This will be the first time.

The high school is huge. The campus spreads out in front of us like its own little town. In our range of vision there is a cafeteria, a library, a main office, a series of nondescript classrooms, and four different dorm rooms. The massive campus is placed on a hill, and we can see the hilly forest roll out for miles. The first signs of autumn hang are peeking out, and it is already evident that it will be beautiful.

People hang off of each other in distinct groups. I can tell which kids were from Abnegation; they stare ahead politely and bow their heads in greeting when we pass by. They drift towards their next class in a large clump, clothed in the same drab garments that I am in. Their grey, huddled mass has the appearance of an especially sad storm cloud.

Next, we pass by the Candor. They argue loudly, their red faces contrasting their black and white outfits. Most Candor become lawyers or judges. They believe that lying is the cause of all problems, and always tell the truth, but often become rude loudmouths because they have no filter.

The Erudite sector contains the intelligent ones. They chatted outside of the library as we passed. Their parents are the doctors, engineers, and scientists of the world, who believe that knowledge is the most important thing in the world. I detest them greatly. Their vast intellect turned them into insufferable know-it-alls. They are the type of people who challenge the way the politicians have been running the government, and my father constantly complains about people like them at the dinner table.

The kids from the Amity sector sit in circles giggling and singing. They share funny smelling brownies off of a tray. Amity is all about peace and love. They are taught about the downfalls of aggression from a very young age, and live on farms. They seem like they live good lives, growing crops and strumming banjos without a care in the world.

As my eyes move through the campus, I realize that something was off, missing. It was at that moment that the train shot by. Pandemonium erupted as a sea of Dauntless surged out of the moving train. I stood, gaping. Watching the Dauntless explode from the moving train, they just seemed so sure of themselves. Even in the moments when they looked like they were about to eat dirt, they just tucked their head into their chests and turned the inevitable face plant into a confident roll. The Dauntless house believed in bravery. It makes sense as most of the people in the Dauntless group get military jobs. I don't know what their extensive tattoos and piercings have to do with bravery, but it's obviously part of their culture- all of them have at least a few of each. I make myself turn away from their mesmerizing ritual.

The freshmen were being herded into a massive auditorium. Naturally, they had already divided into groups based on their upbringings. It was partly that most of them knew each other anyways, but mostly that we know that we shouldn't mix. I'm not sure when this was figured out, but since then people usually just kept to people like themselves. I turn to Caleb.

"Nervous?"

He scowls. "Are you?"

I could tell him about my doubts. I could ask him if he thinks I will fit in. I could even ask his advice. I could interrogate him to see if he ever feels like abandoning our parent's teachings, too. But I don't. I wouldn't want to bother him with my problems. It would be selfish. And I'm not allowed to be selfish. But could I, if I turned my back on my would-be faction, and my family?

I just shake my head.

Just then, the microphone is adjusted, sending out an ear splitting shriek across the cavernous auditorium. All conversation stops, even from the Candor. A tall, thin woman in her late 30's stands on the stage. She has short blonde hair framing her delicate, cold face and wears a blue and white power suit; Erudite colors. I recognize her from the newspapers as Jeanine Matthews, a former Erudite and a most influential scholar. Her work in science and engineering is known to the entire world, making her Erudite's unofficial role model.

"Hello, incoming freshmen, my name is Jeanine Matthews. Some of you may already know me as head of Erudite Laboratories Inc., a company that revolves itself around the collection and distribution of knowledge. However, this year, I will also be your principal."

Murmurs and gasps were issued from the Erudite and Candor sections of the auditorium, mutters of dissention from the Abnegation, giggles from the Amity, and bored yawns from the Dauntless. I just sighed. Of course, a woman who probably hates the politicians and probably their children, just like the rest of her old faction, will oversee my first year away from home.

She continued with her speech. "For those unfamiliar with the way that this school works, I will repeat what was on the informational packet that you should have received. The school is broken up into five houses, called factions. Each faction has a dormitory that has been built to meet the specific needs of each faction. In the morning, students will be required to attend basic classes that apply to all students. Afterwards, they will be able to buy lunch from the cafeteria, and then head back to their dormitories for faction specific training. These classes will be geared more towards the careers you will be able to find in the particular fields of each faction. Faction training will end at six, followed by dinner, and finally lights-out. Lights-out times are determined by the dormitory head, as well as sleeping arrangements. However, as the ultimate authority, we do require the students to sleep on campus. Any questions?"

I had understood all of her words, my brain soaking them up like a sponge. Other kids, however, had a more difficult time, and their tedious questions bored me to death. Just as I was beginning to seriously consider faking an illness to get out of the rest of this orientation, Jeanine's voice rang again.

"Okay. If that is all, I will now be handing each of you over to a representative from each faction. They will give you a tour of the campus, introduce you to some important members of their respective school factions, and then we will switch. At six o' clock you will all be sent home for your last night, if you live nearby, and tomorrow morning will make a decision about what type of education you might want and what faction you will want to belong to. Those of you who cannot return today will be staying in the cafeteria. Good luck."

With that, she turned and swiftly walked back behind the curtain, leaving us with a quiet, but amiable Abnegation representative. He showed us around the dormitory, a simple, familiar looking place that seemed almost too similar to my own home for it to be real. There were a few students who were moving in today, but for the most part, it was empty. I doubted it would get much more exciting during the school year, though.

The day went by quickly. We visited Candor's fortress of a dormitory, Erudite's hi-tech mini skyscraper, and Amity's little farm area, none of which caught my eye. The sun was now lowering in the sky, drenching the campus in a heavy golden glow. The kids in my group were lying down in the soft grass, waiting for the last representative to join us. Suddenly, a shape appears from the shadows of the building. I jump up, startled by the abrupt arrival of the last representative.

"Hello, freshmen," The woman said. I still can't see her clearly. She is standing directly in front of the sun. "My name is Tori, I will be your Dauntless representative." She turns around, and starts walking away, while the rest of our orientation group just sits in a confused heap. When she finally turns around, she is about 25 yards ahead. "Well, what are you doing? Let's go, freshmen!" I scramble up. Tori was intimidating, but I wasn't going to let her tough ass attitude sway me.

I got up, collected myself and strolled right up beside her. From this angle I could finally get a good look at her. She is obviously of Asian descent, with her almond shaped eyes and sleek black hair. She is dressed in usual Dauntless apparel, a black tank top, black cargo pants, and dark brown combat boots. A tattoo is peeking out of the collar of her top, on the back of her neck. It appears to be a hawk, with a red eye.

"Why the hawk?" I blurt out, a little rudely.

"Curious, are you?' She says, appraising me. Then, after about a minute of silence, "It reminds me of the fears that I have overcome."

About then she stops so abruptly that the kid behind her runs into her. I look around. We are not near a dormitory, just out in the middle of the soccer fields.

"Unless there is something wrong with you, you should be able to tell that we are not near the Dauntless dormitory," Tori addresses our baffled group. "That is because no one is allowed to know where the Dauntless dormitory is, not unless you are a member, which I doubt any of you will be."

I feel like she looked directly at me when she said this. I shake the feeling off and keep listening.

"Instead I am going to just introduce you to our dormitory head, Max."

As if on cue, a hulking dark-skinned man walks out of the gym and faces us. He is also wearing standard Dauntless black gear.

"Hey there underclassmen," He called. "I'm Max, the head of the Dauntless faction…"

He went on to explain the basic ideals of Dauntless life, and reasons why it is the best faction, but the whole speech had an undertone of danger, like he was warning us about, or maybe challenging us to pick Dauntless.

After Max's lecture, Tori leads us back to the bus area, and says that we are free to go. I find Caleb, who had been dropped off ten minutes ago.

"So…" I begin. "What do you think?"

Caleb growls at me, defensive. "What do you mean?"

I purse my lips. "Nothing." I turn away. What's wrong with _him_?

I don't have time to ask. Just then, the bus pulls up, and we are to head off to the cafeteria, where we are to sleep for the night.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Beatrice

When I wake up the next morning, a massive headache seems to be threatening to split my brain in half. I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping that it will just go away if I shrink back into the welcome oblivion of sleep. But, that's not possible. It's choosing day and I need to get ready. I pull out my outfit for the day, another skirt, another ill-fitting shirt, and another sweater, all slate grey.

I still have no idea what faction I am going to choose today. Not Amity, I am too stubborn and angry for that. Not Candor, there is no way I'd be able to always tell the truth. I'm not sure about Erudite. I'd succeed there, for sure, but I hate them. Or at least I thought I did. That left me with Abnegation and Dauntless. I'm not sure how brave I am, but it sure would take a whole lot of courage to pick Dauntless. Likewise, it would take a lot of selflessness to stay in Abnegation, to make my parents happy, and give up my own happiness. Maybe what I choose will be a testament to who I am. I just got to follow my gut.

Easier said than done.

Caleb and I arrive at the auditorium fifteen minutes early. Our parents had driven into us the importance of being on time. We didn't ever want to inconvenience anyone. Other will-be Abnegation obviously had the same idea, as a quiet sea of grey now surrounds us. The doors to the auditorium open, and students pull their parents into the sections that they sat in yesterday. Caleb and I stand in the back, giving up our seats to those who need it more. I imagine that my parents are here with us.

When the auditorium finally fills to its absolute limit with new students and their parents, the lights dim and Marcus Eaton, the mayor of Chicago, steps out. Why is he here? Mutters carry through the Erudite section. I can only hear snippets, but I think I hear something about his son, Tobias and the paper today. I forgot. His son goes here. I'll have to read after the ceremony. He picks up the microphone and begins reading off of a note card.

"Welcome ladies and gentlemen, to our annual choosing ceremony, where our new students will be able to start off their journey here by declaring themselves to a school faction. But first, I would like to explain why I am here today…" He delves into a lengthy lecture addressing the importance of education in today's society, most of which I tune out.

After a good 20 minutes, the topic returns to today's events, and I try to focus. Marcus welcomes the first student, who walks up to him, a small girl dressed in red and yellow, who looks like an Amity. He drops a small metal coin into her hand. I cannot see it too clearly from here, but the disk should have her name on it. She walks over to the five bowls set in the middle of the stage. First she walks past the Dauntless bowl, a clear container full of sizzling coals, then past the Abnegation bowl containing smooth grey stones, and stops at the Amity bowl, which held dark, rich soil. She hesitates just for the slightest moment, and drops her coin into the bowl. It hits the dirt, and she walks back to where her new faction is seated, where she is greeted with hugs and kisses.

It takes longer than usual for the first person to surprise everyone. It is a boy name James Tucker, a frightening looking boy, who appears like he would fit in at Dauntless. He stumbles up to the Candor bowl and drops his nameplate into the container. The metal hits the sharp glass in the Candor bowl with a soft clink, and the silence ensues, only broken eventually by the mutters of approval from the Candor.

I am in a sort of trance when Caleb is called. He squeezes my hand one last time, and walks up to the stage, sneaking glances back me as he goes. I watch him shuffle to Marcus. His movements seem slow and indecisive, very un-Caleb. He twirls that disk in his fingers, drags his feet up the stairs, and stops before reaching the bowls. He takes a deep breath. I could hear it from way back in the auditorium. Then he continues to the Abnegation bowl. Wait, no, past the Abnegation bowl. I want to shout out to him, 'Caleb you missed it' but I don't want to cause him any more embarrassment. He just seems out of it. I keep waiting for him to turn around, but he doesn't. He keeps going all the way to the other side. His last few steps seem to be in slow motion, as does him raising the medallion. His fingers uncurl, the coin flips, and lands. A single drop of water splashes up onto Caleb's grey shirt.

Water. Erudite. Caleb. My thoughts have a hard time forming. _The Erudite are arrogant fools. How could Caleb do this?_ This is the first fully coherent one.

Not that I have time to process these events, let alone talk to my family about them. It is now my turn. I didn't hear Marcus call my name, but he obviously did. Thousands of eyes are turned towards me.

I rise from my chair shakily and head towards the center aisle. I imagine that my parents are here. I imagine the anger and hurt on my father's face, but my mother looks cool and collected, even in my head. She is even smiling at my subconscious knows that she is understanding and loving.

In my mind, she hugs me and whispers into my ear, "I love you. No matter what." She isn't actually here, but her apparition's words soothe me. Losing Caleb has made me think about what I might do, too.

Taking the coin from Marcus' hands, I am sure that I will do what's right and pick Abnegation to make my parents proud. I can picture my whole future with them in Chicago, IL. That's what I want, I think, a peaceful, predictable existence. You couldn't ask for anything more.

I look at Caleb, enveloped in a crowd of blue. He is watching me intently, and when my eyes drift to him he nods slightly. I falter. If Caleb wasn't Abnegation, how could I be? Even with all of his selfless acts, he didn't fit in. There is no way I would. However, Caleb's one selfish act had taken my choice away. I have to choose Abnegation. For my parents.

I realize that I have been standing for much too long in front of the bowls, directly between Abnegation and Dauntless, and that I had been gripping the coin much too hard. A trickle of blood had rolled down from my palm onto the medallion, and had pooled in the indents of my name. Beatrice Prior was spelled out in dark red.

I close my eyes. I shift my hand just slightly to the right. Mechanically, I release my grip on the coin. In the moment before it hits, I am filled with both a sense of disgust and triumph. Then, my blood sizzles on the coals.

I am selfish.

I am brave.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Beatrice

I keep my gaze steadily trained on the swarming mass of Dauntless. I think they are cheering for me. I can't hear it over the ringing in my ears.

I sneak a glance at the ghosts of my mother and father that my imagination had created. My parents are abandoned in their Abnegation section, an empty space on either side of them. They are too good people for this type of betrayal. I want to run home and tell them this. That it is not their fault they tried to teach selflessness to two selfish people. Yet, I can't. Not without losing my place in Dauntless. I know that the Dauntless believe in "Faction before blood" and if I go visit my family, especially now, I will not be able to join their faction.

The last girl finishes up, another mousy girl that pledges Amity, and Marcus steps up to the microphone.

"Thank you so much for participating in this fun ritual. It is always a great way to start the school year."

_Yeah, and a great way to ruin families. _I think to myself.

" Have a good night. I hope to see you all soon." Marcus exited. A moment of quiet fell upon the crowd. People thanking God for their children following in their footsteps, that they will be able to see each other, other people thinking about their devastated families.

I think about the Choosing Ceremony itself. It has a lot of symbolic importance. It symbolizes choosing your own path in life, and becoming an adult with new peers and a dream in life. However in real life, all it does is tear people apart.

I don't have a whole lot of time for reflection; the Dauntless are not sentimental people, and are the first to head out of the door, whooping and screaming. I risk one last glance at my parents on the way out. My father is glaring at me with so much hatred I swear that he is sucking the air at me. My mother is smiling.

Out of the building, we are clumped into two groups of initiates: the transfers, and the Dauntless born. Then, we are told to run. I am sprinting. I love it. I love the way it makes my muscles feels and the way it makes the night air feel, being harshly pulled in through my nose.

As we reach the train tracks, a rumbling sensation begins, sending a shock of excitement and nervousness through me. The train sweeps by and the older Dauntless start running with it. I follow in their lead. They grab the railing on an open car and swing in gracefully. Even sprinting, I know I will never be able to catch up with them in that car, so I slow down and wait for the next one. I am able to flop halfway into the car, which is filled with other initiates. I try to wriggle in, but I don't have enough strength to pull my lower half in. A Candor girl, or former Candor girl, grabs my forearms and hauls me in.

I turn towards the opening of the train car. I can see a kid trailing behind the train, his face contorted as he tries to muster up the strength to reach us. He won't. He falls to his knees as we speed away.

I suddenly feel like I might throw up.

"You all right?" the Candor girl asks.

I gulp, and then nod.

"I'm Christina," She says. She looks like a model. She is tall, dark skinned and pretty.

"Beatrice." I pause, not wanting to bother her with any stupid questions, but then continue, because it is really bothering me. "What do you think happened to the kid who didn't make it on the train?"

Her face steels over. "He failed. In order to make it into Dauntless you need to pass initiation. He didn't."

"So what now for him?"

"He is factionless. Maybe his parents will let him sneak home at night, but most likely is that he'll sleep in the gym, on the floor with the other factionless. No home, no friends, and no real future."

I hope that my horror doesn't leak onto my face.

"So," Christina turns back to me. "Do you know where we're headed?"

"My guess would be the Dauntless dormitories. Not that I would really know anything." I shrug.

The train had begun to lift off the ground, onto a bridge that circled around the school. I wondered how the Dauntless dormitory would look. Probably big and showy. Just like everything they do.

I stare out at the city skyline. I can see the low, dimly lit buildings of Abnegation. I wonder what my family is doing. My mother and father are probably getting home now. They will have to prepare their first dinner alone in years. It will probably be quiet and sad. My mother will probably cook, and my father will probably clean up. Then they will probably retire early, but probably not sleep. Not that I can ever know for sure, not anymore.

"They're jumping," A hulking girl calls, disbelief and fear evident in her expression.

I don't blame her for being nervous. We are about 50 feet off the ground at this point. If we don't make the jump from the train to the rooftop, we are as good as dead.

Christina looks green. "I can't do this," she whimpers.

"Hey, its okay. You're going to be fine. Just hold onto my hand. We are going to jump at the same time."

The train had slowed down considerably as the initiate car neared the rooftop, but we don't have a whole lot of time. I push through to the front of the pack, Christina at my side.

"At the count of three," I warn her. "One. Two. THREE."  
I pull her with me. Adrenaline rushes through me. I feel as if I am floating, except that the gravelly rooftop is coming at me too fast. I am able to throw my arms out just in time to save my face. My soft grey sweater isn't meant for this type of abuse, and is ripped, but it cushions my blow significantly.

I don't dare to move. My head is spinning, and I still feel like I am flying. The sensation is exhilarating; I have never felt anything like it. I do, however, have the suspicion that if I move, I might throw up my lunch.

When I feel confident, I raise myself off of the ground, and brush my skirt off. My arms are raw and stinging from the impact, but other than that I seem fine. Christina and I are on the other side. I look around to see if the other initiates are as lucky. I do a head count of the initiates. One is missing. With a sinking feeling, I creep towards the edge of the building. There is a boy sitting on the edge, crying into his hands. I listen, trying to confirm my theory. Rita, he keeps saying. Uh oh. I think I am right. I gulp and look down into the gap between the train tacks and the building. To my relief, there are no bodies. Rita must just not have jumped. I have no sympathy for that. I raise my chin and return to the group.

The same man from yesterday, Max, as well as a couple other upperclassmen are standing on the edge of the building chatting like they are not inches from falling to their death. It has taken me a while but I finally recognize that we are above the gym, and below us, past where Max stands is what appears to be a huge, old storage building, with the glass roof completely gone. Finally, Max addresses us.

"Listen up! You all should recognize me from yesterday, so I don't need to introduce myself," He yawns and stretches, leaning backwards enough that it makes me nervous. "Below us is the Dauntless dormitory. Initiation begins for the Dauntless the minute that they choose, and this will be part of it. If you can't jump, you don't belong here. So leave now."

The crowd is as still as the air before a storm.

Max grins. His face has lit up in an emotion I can only describe as Dauntlessness. It is a unique blend of anticipation, determination, and wild freedom

"Now, who's first?"

Nobody moves. Instead, we stand back, sizing each other up, daring each other to volunteer. I catch another initiate looking at me. He inspects me from head to toe in one sweeping gaze, and then smirks. He thinks that I am weak, that he will be better than me. Rage passes through me like electricity through a wire, quick, hot and consuming.

I step up.

"Ooh, a stiff," He taunts. Stiff is just a rude word for someone from Abnegation.

But I'm not a stiff, not anymore. I'm Dauntless, and I am going to show them.

I shrug off my sweater, which is ruined anyways. I hear a snicker from the same initiate. He turns to his friends and whispers something. His two buddies join in the mocking. I just try to ignore them.

I walk up to where Max is standing and peer over the edge of the building, and into the top of the storage building. I can't see anything but black. Just looking over gives me a dizzy feeling.

Max, who has been watching me intently, has become irritated. "Jumping any time soon?" He grumbles. The initiate from before finds this hilarious. He howls at Max's remark.

I steel up and step up onto the ledge, balling up my sweater and throwing it at the boy. I take a deep breath in through my nose, and let it out with my mouth. I can do this.

I walk out into the nothingness.

The resulting feeling is the best I've ever felt. Air rushes up past me. My hair is whipped up. My stomach lurches upwards, and my heart downwards. An electric feeling buzzes through me; similar to the one I had after the train jump. I don't even worry about the landing. That is until I notice that floor is swelling up to meet me. For a moment uncontrollable panic chills me. Then I hit.

What? I am still well over 5 feet in the air. I reach my hands down. There is a sturdy black net supporting me. I laugh. It is one of relief and of shock.

A hand reaches over the net to help me down. The hand is tan and rough with long curling fingers.

Once I'm down, I look at the guy that belongs to the hand. He has short brown hair that spills onto his forehead, full pink lips, and a face that appears to have been chiseled from marble. He is incredibly attractive. His deep, sapphire eyes are wide with disbelief, but his tone is detached when he speaks to me.

"What's your name?" He asks. He makes it less of a question and more of a command.

I am about to say Beatrice, but I pause. It doesn't sound Dauntless. It doesn't sound like me, or the version of me I want to become.

A shadow of a smile crosses his face when he senses my hesitation. He leans in close.

"You can pick another, if you want. Just make it good. You don't get to pick again."

"Oh. Okay…" I bite my lip. I want to still be me, but I want to be a braver, freer me. My name should reflect that.

"Tris." I finally decide. "What's yours?"

He ignores my question and turns around to his friend, a girl about our age with multiple facial piercings. Her eyes are also wide, incredulous.

"What?" I demand.

"I've just never seen a stiff jump first. I don't think any one has." She explains.

"Oh." I try not to smile, but my pride and delight are too much to hold in.

"First Jumper, Tris!" She calls.

The boy leans in towards me again. "Welcome to Dauntless."

I'm a first.

I'm Dauntless.

I'm Tris.

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed, that was my longest chapter yet. Sorry if there are any mistakes, I proofread, but really just wanted to get back to writing. I was thinking about whether or not I should try a Four P.O.V. or not yet?**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I will continue to try to update as often as possible, but school just started, as well as soccer, so I might be a little pressed for time in the next couple weeks. Still, I will try for AT LEAST twice a week. I'm very into this project, and hope that all of you guys enjoy!**

Chapter Six

Tris

Once all of the initiates had jumped, we took off on a tour, once again split into our groups. The "Dauntless born" were herded over in one direction by a heavily pierced, but still mildly pretty girl. I think her name was Lauren. The same guy who had helped me off the net led the transfers in the opposite direction.

"I'm Four-" He began introducing himself, but was quickly cut off.

"Like the number?" Christina cut in.

I thought I heard him sigh quietly before he answered, "Yes. Like the number." He turned around and gestured for us to follow. "The first place we are going to see is the Pit. It is-"  
"Clever name." Christina snorts.

Uh. Oh. Four turns around and stalks up to Christina, not stopping until he was inches from her. His eyes burned with an intensity that I had never seen before in my sheltered, shallow, poor excuse for a life.

"I DARE you to interrupt me again, initiate." He snarls.  
He whips back around and continues the tour, and Christina lags behind, looking shaken and pale. I don't blame her. I was nervous just watching the scene play out. But, by the time we get to the Pit, she has recovered. I doubt she will ever interrupt him again, but other than that, she has returned to her normal self.

The Pit is beautiful, in its own way. The ceiling is patterned with industrial lighting, and the brilliant bluish light makes the pale concrete walls appear as if they are glowing. Also, its sheer size is overwhelming. I have never stood in a room as large as this. And that it is underneath a decrepit storage building is impressive, to say the least.

Christina and I wander through the Pit aimlessly among the other transfers. After about five minutes, I assume we are almost at the other side of the Pit. I'm not sure if I see it, and I am still a little disoriented from the extreme lighting. Then I hit a railing. Huh. I peer over the side. Holy Crap! Past the railing is a massive abyss. I can't see the bottom of it. It's just as huge and extravagant as the Pit itself.

"What possible use could this have?" I ask Christina. My voice echoes around the gorge. Just before she is about to answer, Four walks up, seeming to have heard us, and she falls quiet. Four steps out between the rift and me.

"This is the Chasm," He announces. Everyone around stops talking and gathers behind Christina and I. "It is here to remind us of the difference between courage and stupidity. A reckless jump over this railing will kill you; it would be stupid. But, showing true bravery by admitting your weaknesses will spare you your life and prove more than jumping would." I think he eyed me as he said this. I take a step back, away from the Chasm.

On that cheery note, we all head off towards the dining hall.

"Never eaten a burger before, Stiff?" The sleazy initiate from the roof was bothering me again. I learned earlier that his name was Peter.

I had been weighing the burger in my hand for a very long time, watching the gooey cheese drip over the side of the charred patty. My mother was a vegan, and did the grocery shopping, so we all ate like her. I wasn't that committed, so I decide to let go of it. It's crazy what you can learn about yourself when you are completely free of judgment, when you just let yourself go. This time, I learned that I'm not a vegan. I bite into the soft, buttery bun. The juicy, fatty patty fell apart in my mouth. Around me, the other initiates were also eating and shouting and teasing. They all looked so free. That's what I came here for, freedom. It didn't take long to get it.

At that moment, the conversation stops. A boy, who looks like he couldn't be more than sixteen, walks in. He looks scary: he has greasy black hair swept across his pale face, thin , cruel lips and his face is heavily pierced. The metallic balls glint menacingly, but what really frightens me is the cruel look in his eyes when they meet my stare. I see his mouth curl up at the corners, when he sees the reaction he elicits, but his eyes remain the same. He likes being feared.

"Who is that?" Christina whispers to Four.

"His name is Eric," He says. "He's a leader here."

"But he looks so young… no older than a sophomore…" I jump in.

Four glares at me. "Year doesn't matter here. If you're a good enough Dauntless initiate, then you can be eligible for a important position in the faction, like faction head."  
Eric stops at our table and clears his throat. Four turns around to face him. Eric is also pretty tall, but has bad posture, so that Four seems to tower over him. It doesn't help Eric that Four's muscular chest and arms are flaunted by a tight, thin t-shirt and that Eric sports an unflattering, baggy one that makes him look even skinnier.

"Can I help you?" Four smiles, but I can tell it's fake.

"Max says he wants to meet with you tomorrow, I think he said something about a leadership opportunity?" Eric sneers.

Four pressed his lips together. "You can tell Max that I'm still not interested."

Eric looks semi-pleased by this.

"I'd be happy to, _Four,_" Eric purrs. He turns away and leaves Four to deal with the mass of gaping initiates now staring at him.

I gather the courage to speak first, "Why wouldn't you want a leadership position. Max is a senior; you could be faction head next year. That looks really good on your college application."

"What if I don't want to go to college?" He spits out. "Besides, what makes you think you can talk to me?"

Oh boy, not only is my school run by someone who could still be out to get me, with my father being a politician and all, but the guy who is supposed to be in charge of our initiation is a jackass.

I sigh. "It must be 'cus your so approachable." I mutter.

I sneak a glance at him. He is livid. He doesn't respond, just gets up from the table and stalks away. Yet, as angry as he seemed, I thought I saw a ghost of a smile on his face as he walked away.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I know this is a shorter chapter, but it sets up part of the plot, and is an overall important scene. After you read, please give feedback. It is important to me to know what you guys think, and if you want the story to go in a certain direction. Also, I am excited to inform you guys that I have a plan for a ****legitimate plot that I have been working out, so I hope the process continues to speed up from here.**

Chapter Six

Tris

The alarm blares at 5:00 the next morning, awaking me from a much-needed sleep. I groan and turn back over. I know that the bathroom is going to be super crowded right now, because the Dauntless didn't bother giving the girls and boys separate bathrooms, which I thought was bogus. The guys seemed pretty happy about it, though. I can't say that surprised me.

Fifteen minutes later, a huge figure slides off the top of the bunk bed, shaking the whole thing. I open my eyes to see Al, my bunkmate, staring into my bunk. His eyes are red and puffy and his voice is gravelly when he speaks. He must have been crying last night. I bet that's what that funny noise was.

"You awake?" He says.

"Yes. What." I am barely able to gurgle the words out, and it comes out a little harsher than I intended.

"Well, uh, you don't want to miss your first full day," He warns me.

Ugh. Just like Caleb. I almost suppress my eye roll, but then remember where I am, who I am. I'm Tris. I can eye roll whenever the hell I want. So I do.

"I'll get up on my own time, thank you very much," I mumble, but I roll out of my bed anyways. I can see Al smirk out of the corner of my eye.

I first get all of my stuff in order. I don't want to forget anything on my first day. Then, I check my schedule again. Then I brush my teeth, my hair, and get my clothes picked out, soft, giant black t-shirt and baggy dark cargo pants. I want to be Dauntless, but I'm just not comfortable flashing my body in the same way they are. My parent's values led me to think that showing my body was an embarrassment. It doesn't help that I have the body of a twelve year old. It's actually pathetic. That's actually why I wait until the bathrooms were almost empty before I turned on the shower and hopped in. I only see one other pair of feet underneath a curtain.

When the scalding water first hits my back, the feeling is orgasmic. I mean, not that I would know what that feels like, but I assume that this is what it would feel like; the almost boiling water cascading down onto my shoulders, sending instant relief through my whole body and untangling the knots of stress I had built up in my muscles. After an intense day like yesterday, there is nothing I needed more than this. Except for maybe a couple more hours of sleep.

I am completely lost in my own thoughts, thoughts about Dauntless, my family, and my classes. Then, the curtain jerks open. I panic, and just stand wide-eyed as Peter strolls into my stall, a towel wrapped around his waist, thank god.

"Hey there, Stiff. Somehow, I knew you were going to be in here," He muses.

"Get out, Peter," I snarl.

"Make me," He leans against the wall, his hands clasped behind his back. I begin to charge at him, but as I get within striking range he pulls his right hand out from behind his back. A small pocketknife glistens in between his thumb and forefinger. I accidently let out a small gasp.

"Now, how about we try something," He grins cruelly. "Just for funsies."

"Make me," I croak.

"Okay," He pauses, pretending to consider his options. Then, suddenly, he pulls me in close, and I feel him behind me, holding me to him firmly. I feel the pocketknife digging sharply into my throat. I gulp.

"Is that enough to make you, Stiff?"

I think I am crying now. The shower is still on, so it could be that, but my eyes feel hot and dry, like Al's looked this morning.

"What do you want, Peter?" I whisper.

He seems pleased with himself.

"Because you cooperated so well today," He steps back. "I think I am just going to let you go."

_There is a catch, I think. There must be a catch_.

"But…" _Oh god. Here it is, the catch._ "I think I am going to want to remember this later, ya know?" I just stand there, breathing_. No, I don't know_, I want to say, but I don't have the strength to. I just wait for him to continue.

"Maybe some pictures?" He offers. I can't turn him down… I mean it's thins or…"

He pulls out a shiny, new looking iPhone. He pushes me away a little, but keeps his knife out. I'm screwed.

"Alright, ready," Peter stops for a moment to appraise me. "You really don't have a whole lot of… well, anything. Are you sure you're fourteen, Stiff?"

I mumble, "yes."

Peter nods, and then walks up to me.

"Okay, I want you to stand like this," He says, grabbing my body and positioning me, and I let him.

He snaps a few photos, snickers, and then lets me leave, throwing me a fluffy white towel. I don't get out yet, though. I sit underneath the scorching water and breathe. I wait until I have my breath back and a hint of color in my face, then leave. Peter is not going to do this again, I decide. I am not going to let him.

**A/N: Hope it wasn't too intense! Leave me a ****review with your thoughts!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I LOVE the positive reviews. The more that come in, I guarantee, the faster I will be writing this. I apologize in advance for any spelling or grammar mistakes, I do not have an editor or anything. If you find any, just leave me a note and I will fix ASAP.**

Chapter Seven

Tris

I arrive to class on time, but at the last possible moment. I slide into a desk, picking one in the back, next to Christina. Some former-Erudite looking woman walks into the class and begins a boring lecture on U.S. History.

Christina passes me a note.

_U ok? You look kind of funny. _It reads.

It takes me a couple of tries to get the right response:

_I'm fine._

_I had the worst morning, though. Peter was-_

_Something happened before school_

_I'll talk to you after classes, i_s what I decide to write back. I was going to tell about it on the note, but I didn't want to make a scene during class. I was probably going to cry if I even wrote about it, and I don't want to look weak in front of all these people.

I sit quietly through History, then Math, then English, then Spanish, then even am able to blend in during Science, which happens to be taught by Jeanine Matthews. Christina is waiting for me when I get back to the Dauntless dormitory.

"Tris. What. Happened." Christina assaults me with questions while I lie down on my bunk. I try to answer them all.

"Oh my god," Is all she is able to work out afterwards.

Al has been eavesdropping from the top bunk. He swings down, looking horrified, and a little embarrassed. "I kind of overheard what you were saying, and um, I'm sorry for eavesdropping, but, um, I don't think that you should go anywhere without a bodyguard or something." He scratches his head, "Maybe I could, like, escort you to your classes?" His face is beet red by the time that he finishes.

I don't like it. I hate being dependent on other people, and with, my safety would be totally dependent on a bodyguard. It makes me nervous.

"Guys, you can't just follow me around all of the time, you'll get tired of it," I argue.

Christina rubs her chin in thought. "Hmmm," She hums. For a second I think that I'm totally off the hook. Then, her eyes brighten. " I'll ask Will!" She exclaims.

"Who is _Will?_" I don't want a total stranger knowing how weak I am, especially not in Dauntless, and during our initiation.

"He's super nice, and super trustworthy," Christina peers at him through the bunks, and then turns in and whispers, "And super cute."

I sigh. There it is, the reason she wanted him to join the bodyguard club. It would give her a reason to talk to him and hang out.

"Fine," I groan, " But, remember, I'm only doing this for you."  
She looks absolutely giddy. "I swear you won't regret it," she squeaks and leaps up to find him.

I really hope I don't.

Later, I follow my map down a quiet hallway and into the room in which most of our Dauntless classes will be held. The room is grey, short, and wide with rubber floors, and a series of other doors leading to other rooms. It looks like any other classroom, except for the boxing ring in the middle. Four stands in the middle of the ring. Sweat plasters his dark hair to his forehead, and his shirt to his muscular back. He bounces on his toes, keeping his legs engaged, and swings at an invisible opponent. I clear my throat to announce my arrival. I don't want him to think I'm a creep or anything.

He turns around, startled. He wipes his forehead with the hem of his shirt, revealing an impressive six-pack. I hope he doesn't notice my glance.

"Uh, you're a little early, Stiff," He criticizes me. Immediately, I recover.

"Is that a crime?" I shoot.

"No, I suppose its not," He pouts. His full lips jut out enticingly. I shake my head. This is my instructor, my mentor here. He wouldn't want me anyways; I am short, young looking, and only average in looks. Not to mention inexperienced. He, on the other hand, could have any girl he wants. I would just be embarrassing myself, and I don't need any more embarrassment for the day.

The door opens, and Christina stalks in.

"Where did you think _you_ were going?" She whispers. I just groan. "From now on no more slipping away."

"Fine."

The door opens again, and the room fills up quickly. The ten or so of the transfers huddle around the ring. When everyone is quiet, Four begins with his introduction. It strikes me that he's an eloquent speaker; it adds to his intimidation factor.

"Welcome to your first Dauntless classes. We do this differently here in Dauntless, so today will take a little bit of explanation. Most of the factions have multiple classes each afternoon, and they are the same each day. Dauntless, instead, will have you focus on one class each afternoon for several weeks, and then switch. First, you will have a class that focuses on physical training, then on emotional, and finally on mental. Also, for your first semester, your status in Dauntless is not yet permanent." This elicited nervous and confused gasps from the transfers. Four pretends to not notice, "In order for you to pass Dauntless initiation, you will need to succeed in all three of these parts of training, as well as do well in your normal classes. Dauntless doesn't take weak people, or stupid people, so if you are either of these, feel free to leave now. To begin, we are going to work on physical aspects of training in Dauntless. This will include firing a gun and hand to hand combat. I have been trained as a certified firearm instructor, as well as an expert in several forms of self-defense. We will start today by going over basic fighting techniques," He gestures to the multitude of punching bags set up around the edge of the room, and then waited.

The rest of us just gape, trying to soak up all of the information that we'd been given. It was a lot, but I figured that wasn't going to be the end of it.

"Move." He commands and instantly initiates jump into action.

We were taught several basic punches and kicks and then sent off by ourselves. He was a hawk, circling the room, his clear blue eyes scanning the room for the weak to prey on. When he finally reaches me, my breath stops. I know he is going to berate me just like he did to Myra, the timid looking girl three punching bags to my right. But he just studies my moves and circles me. He steps in, closing the gasp between us, and places his hand on my ribcage. His long delicate fingers lightly position my body. The contact sends a wild thrill through my body, more powerful than when I jumped.

"Keep tension in here," He orders, "And use your elbows and knees. You can do more damage with them."

He steps back, but the feel of his fingers lingers. My skin prickles where the points of contact were. I still am having trouble breathing.

"Okay," I breathe.

This goes on for hours until, finally, Four draw the class to a close. He calls the transfers over, and we clump around him.

"Well done today. No one got on my nerves, so we are going to call today a success. We will be doing this again for the rest of the week, as well as work on firearm use. Meet me again here tomorrow. And be on time."

I walk out with Will and Al flanking me. It made me feel a little better after being in such close proximity to Peter all afternoon.

"Stiff," I hear someone call. I turn around. Whoever it is must be talking to me. Stiff has become my unofficial nickname here.

Four is leaning against the boxing ring, he seems much more relaxed now that most of the initiates have left.

"Yes?"

"Remember that I said on time, not ridiculously early," A grin slips onto his face for a moment before he recovers and very instructor-like says, "I'll see you tomorrow."

I turn and leave.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Tris

It been a week since the Peter incident, and I haven't had a problem. Yet. Al, Christina, and Will have all been taking turns guarding me, and Peter isn't looking for a fair fight. He has been lurking in the shadows with his buddy Drew. I think this might be it, as far as Peter is concerned. I still don't like that I have to depend on them, but at least I'm safe. I guess that's what matters.

Sitting in the chilly, unwelcoming science classroom, however, I still feel the opposite of safe. Ms. Matthews' calculating pale eyes burn holes in the back of my neck. Her judgment is palpable, and I can already tell she hates me. The test in front of me, the first of the year, is almost completely finished. I only have two more questions to answer, but Jeanine's presence is making me incredibly uncomfortable.

My pencil shakes as I write in what I believe is the right answer. This is the hardest test I have ever taken. I hope I do well. I don't cope well with failure.

I can't take it anymore. I just pick up my test and drop it in the basket, leaving the last question blank. Everyone else is already done, and looking relaxed, too. Something must be wrong. I can't be the only one having trouble. It doesn't make any sense.

"Well, now that everyone is finished," Jeanine drones, "You make talk for the remainder of class. I will try to grade these papers before the period ends."

I turn to Christina. She's in this class with me, thank god. I don't think that either of us could handle Ms. Matthews' by ourselves.

"Was that test super hard, or was I missing something?"I ask her.

"No," She looks at me concerned. "It was pretty easy."

I frown. I've always been pretty good at school in general. I keep on top of my work, study hard, and have no problem. This is new.

"Maybe I'll have to talk to my brother, he's…uh… Erudite," I confess.

"Ew, Erudite?" Christina wrinkles her nose. Erudite's know it all reputation was known to everyone.

I just shrug. I guess Caleb's hidden intellect will help me out now.

Ms. Matthews marched back into room with corrected tests in one hand and a steaming cup of coffee in the other. I shrink back when she enters. She is intimidating, but in a different way than Four. If Four is like a mountain, sturdy and untouchable, then Ms. Matthews is like ice, cold and sharp. Almost more mean than just scary.

She glides around the room and places the tests on the desks of the students. I think she deliberately waits before she slams my test down. A fat red 20 is circled at the top of the front page. I look over to Christina, who is smiling at her test. She got a perfect score. I never thought of Christina as a studious person, she certainly doesn't come across as one, but obviously she is. Either that, or something is seriously wrong.

"Can we compare answers?" I ask.

"Sure, like which ones?"

"Maybe all of them? I kinda bombed…" I explain.

"Really?" She looks perplexed, "You seem so _smart_, though."

"Uh, thanks, but I guess I'm not," I 'm not sure if I should be offended or flattered, but I choose the latter. Christina has a habit of expressing her every thought, even if they are slightly rude or inappropriate comments.

Christina hands me her test. I compare the answers. She got 'A' but I got 'B' I look at the question on my test: "_What type of bonds are in a water molecule?_"

'A' on my test was "ionic bond." I know that _that_ it not the right answer. I look at 'B' which is "polar covalent bond." I am absolutely sure that it is the right answer, not that we learned any of this in class yet. But how did Christina get credit and not me?" I look back at Christina's test. The first question is "_What is the closest star to Earth?" _What the hell? Not only is it a totally different test, but it is SO much easier. Now I can tell why Christina was so puzzled when I told her I had trouble.

"That bitch," I whisper to Christina.

"What?"

"She gave me the wrong test," I spit.

Christina looks doubtful, "Tris, relax," She sighs. "You seem to think that everyone is out to get you. It was probably just an accident. Just go up to her after class."

I glower at my test. The way that she was looking at me, playing with my mind, there is no way this was an accident.

I sit silently at my desk for the remainder of class, looking through all of my answers. More than 20% seem correct. This fuels my anger, so that by the time the bell rings, my vision is hazed with red bloodlust. I am going to _kill_ her.

"Beatrice," She sings when I walk up to her, "How may I help you?" Her voice is sickly sweet. It sets off alarms of suspicion in my head.

"I think I got the wrong test," I say clearly, not letting my anxiousness show.

I hand her my test. She begins looking it over before asking, "You're Andrew Prior's daughter, correct?"

"Yes," I respond.

Her eyes flash with some sort of strong emotion, one that I couldn't quite place, but is gone so quick it could've been a trick of light. But it wasn't. She knows my father, and probably in some unpleasant way, I deduce. Then, her face breaks into an even larger fake smile.

"Well, I don't see any problem with your test, Beatrice-"

"Call me Tris," I interrupt her sharply.

"Okay, Tris," She amends, "I don't see any problems, so you're just going to have to study harder next time."

"But we didn't learn this stuff, yet!" I argue.

"I'm sorry, Beatrice, but that happens to be your problem, not mine."

It takes all of my strength to not hit her right now. I use my last shreds of self control to gather up my stuff and leave briskly.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I plop down at my table, followed by Christina, who had taken it upon herself to walk me back from classes each day. We hadn't talked on the way back, so she knew that I was pissed. Poor Al, unfortunately, did not recognize that my patience is wearing thin.

"Did you suck on a lemon?" He teases.

I can feel my patience totally evaporating. Words bubble up in my throat before I can stop them.

"Shove it, Al," I snap "We can all hear you crying at night, so I suggest you stop worrying about me, and take care of your own problems."

I shove off from the table and march across the dining hall, fury radiating from every cell in my body. I catch one look of him as I pass through the exit, and my anger dissipates, instead turning to guilt. The hurt and shock on his face was gut wrenching. I can't believe that I have the power to cause someone so much pain, just using words.

Not only did I just ruin the friendship between Al and I, but I also just alienated the rest of my friends, the ones who were keeping me safe. As I reach this realization, panic spreads through my body, turning my core to ice. I cover a sob with my hands. What did I just _do_?

I sit there and cry for what feels like hours, but is probably just minutes. A rough hand grasps my shoulder.

"What's wrong, Stiff?" A voice asks. It doesn't sound like they really care, more like they are mocking me.

I look up and my gaze is met by flat brown eyes and a menacing grin. Peter.

**A/N: I know that you all are probably cursing me out for leaving you with a cliffhanger, but I promise that the next chapter will arrive even quicker. I just wanted to get this in ASAP. And to my few followers, would you guys rather have shorter chapters but have them updated quickly? or longer chapters that might take more time? Just for future reference. **


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I know you don't want a super long author's note. I left you hanging and I feel real bad, but I'd like you all to celebrate that I received my first constructive review. I got a suggestion about how closely I was following the Divergent books, saying that I should make it less similar to the book. This was mainly because the beginning is my all time fav part, but it was a good point ****nonetheless. I want to let you all know that I have devised a separate progression for this fanfic, and from now on, will be trying to express their differences more clearly, while still including everyone's favorite parts. So, cheers for constructive criticism! If you have anymore, please don't hesitate! I love all of your ideas!**

Chapter 9

Tris

Peter grins down at me salaciously. My muscles freeze again. I know that I can't do anything, that I'm helpless to him, and this terrifies me more than anything else. He uses his immense size to pull me to my feet. I try to recover feeling in my limbs, one by one. I focus on my breathing as he talks at me.

"You okay, Stiff? You look like you've been crying," He taunts.

I don't respond, just take a deep breath. I think I can feel my fingers again. I wiggle them, curl them into a fist, and grit my teeth.

Peter takes a step forward, and pops my personal space bubble. Instinctively, a low growl rumbles from between my teeth.

"Peter, leave me alone," My lips are still numb, but I am able to get them to work long enough to get this warning out.

"Aww, don't be so frigid, Trissy," He mocks me.

My breaths had become more harsh, quicker. I count to ten and breathe deeply. I regain feeling in my toes.

Peter had been advancing and I was now pinned between him and the wall. He was much too close for comfort. His heavy, calloused hands were pushing up the hem of my shirt. The look in his eyes could only be described as feral. I don't think I could hold on for much longer. I need to do something. Anything.

With this realization, I snap out of my trance. I am now calm, but not in the same delirious way as before. I am in control. I frantically scan the hallways for a possible weapon, or something that could give me an advantage. Then I hear a noise, it sounds like heavy footsteps, from the other end of the hallways. Someone is coming, but not fast enough. Peter is unclasping my bra. I squirm, trying to make it difficult for him.

"Sit still," He breathes, pushing me into the wall harder.

I can't move anymore. His weight is too much. I use my last option.

"Help!" I screech.

The footsteps stop for a second, then speed up, but something is wrong. They're getting quieter, moving farther away. NO. While my savior didn't show up, my cry for help had sent Peter into a frenzy. He claps his hand over my mouth, moving himself off me just slightly. I have enough room to strike him, but I only get one chance. It has to be good enough to incapacitate him. Four's voice rings through my head._ Use your knees and elbows. _The voice is so clear that, if I had not known any better, I would've thought he was standing here with me.

I use the space to pull back my leg and then drive my kneecap directly into his groin. He cries out in pain and crumples to the ground. It was successful, but it only gives me a little time. My arms pump and my feet slap the ground as I sprint in the direction of the dining hall. I think I hear him call after me. I can't totally comprehend what he is saying. The chaos in my mind is great to four on anything as trivial as Peter's words, but I think it was a cliche warning.

I am about halfway back when I run into something huge, solid. Al is standing in front of me with Christina and Will.

"Tris!" He exclaims. "I thought I heard you, so I went back to grab Christina and Will, and then they weren't there, and I had to go and find them, but then I did, and we were coming to get you… and what happened?" He babbles.

"Peter happened," I sputter between breaths, sending an accusatory glare at Al. I almost died and he was off trying to find someone to do the work for him. Coward.

Christina hugs me. "Omigosh. I can't believe we let you go. You were just so angry and Al was so sad. We thought you wanted to be left alone…" She goes off on a long winded apology that I only half listen to.

At the end I say, "It's fine. Don't worry about it, I was being a bitch anyways," and we all go on like nothing happened. Al, however, keeps looking over at me guiltily. At the end of the lunch period, he stops me from leaving. He grabs my arm and pulls me lightly into a abandoned classroom-like room.

"Tris," He starts quietly, "I just wanted to tell you that," He pauses, "…that you really hurt me when you said those things about me crying. I know its true, but it was still uncool."

I look at the floor. Shame causes my face to burn red.

"I'm sorry," I mumble. I tear my eyes from the floor and focus them on him. "That was real awful of me, and if I could take it back I would. I was just having some trouble with my science teacher, and I took it out on the wrong person, on someone that I care about."

Al's face lights up with my words. "Wait. Tris. There's something else I kinda wanted to say…do..." He takes a deep breath and then takes my face in his hands. He leans in. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. These are the only two words that run through my head as Al's face accelerates towards me. At the last moment, I pull free of his embrace. The awkwardness is palpable. I need to get out of here, but I can't just run from my problems, fortunately, Al thinks he can. He avoids eye contact when he says "Sorry," and sulks to the door.

"Al," I try to stop him, but the effort is half hearted. I don't know what to say, and I don't think he wants to talk right now.

When he leaves, I sink to the ground and put my face in my hands. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. The chant starts in my head again. I've been saying that word a lot today, and I'm not even close to being able to put this day behind me. I've been assaulted by Peter, cheated by Ms. Matthews, shaken by Al, and I still have to face Four and his grueling class.

I just cry. I can't take it. I bawl until no more tears come, and my mind is completely blank.

I shut my eyes for just a moment. I don't want to go. I shouldn't have to. Maybe I could just call in sick, or just cut. I need the sleep, I need to study for science… my brain goes on and on with the excuses.

I still know I can't, though. That would hurt me more than it would help. Being alone would keep me vulnerable, skipping a class would put me behind, and I wouldn't be able to see Four, whose presence keeps me feeling secure, and, ultimately, sane.

I push myself off the ground, ready to trudge through the rest of the day.

**A/N: Phew! No breaks there! I think that's it for me today, but I hope I'll get one in tomorrow, too. Gotta love the weekends!**


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Tris

All eyes are on me. I feel intensely aware of the puffiness of my eyes and face. I drop my head to my chest in order to hide my face. With my head down, I discreetly try to search the faces of my 9 classmates. Al is the only one not looking at me, Peter is glowering at me, Christina and Will share looks of pity, but most of the classroom seems to just be waiting for Four's response.

He appears conflicted. His mouth is pulled down into a frown, and his eyebrows are furrowed. His eyes look much too tired for someone his age. Even when he talks, his words are quiet, but firm.

"Sit, Tris."

I carefully edge towards my seat, still not sure if Four is going to burst or not. His words hadn't yet assured me that he wasn't, but he still looked exhausted.

"Can you guarantee that this will not happen again?" The ringing undertone of authority always present in his voice causes me to respond hastily.

"Yes, sir. This will not happen, again," I affirm.

My response was appropriate, and he didn't seem all that mad, but he hesitates at my desk for just long enough that I think that he is going to punish me. I can't look in his eyes for too long without getting lost in them, but I try it now. Confusion and something darker swirl in them like the shades of blue swirling in his eyes, which are framed by the longest, darkest lashes…." I shake my head, freeing myself from his captivating gaze. Four sighs, then shrugs.

"Fine." His words are forced through his teeth.

He struts to the front of the room, and directs our attention to the chalkboard. There has been a chart set up with five rows and two columns. Each row was numbered 1-5. At the bottom, was a blank list, with numbers 1-9.

Four saw all of our questioning looks and began explaining. It was another perfectly executed, long winded speech with a ton of information.

"Today you are going to begin your final assessment in the category of hand to hand combat. Today is just a practice run, but tomorrow I will hand out a schedule with all of your fights on it. All of them will count towards your final rank, and everyone will fight everyone else at least once. You will use all of the techniques you have learned with me and go until your opponent is incapacitated or concedes. You will earn more points for beating better fighters, and less for beating lesser fighters. Your rank will be kept at the bottom of of this chalkboard, in this list." I think he finally takes a breath before asking, "Any questions?"

No one dares to ask any.

"Well then, I'll set up the fights for today." He writes down the matches. Christina v. Molly, Al v. Will, Peter v. Drew, Tris v. Myra, and Edward was without a partner for the day. This seems good for me. Myra is not that much bigger than me, and is definitely a softie. "This is what I had planned out, as it seemed the most fair, however, I think I might make some adjustments based on recent events." He calls over the commotion that had begun. He erased my name and replaced it next to Molly's. Oh no. There it is again. Oh no. Something else bad happened, even when I thought it couldn't get any worse. Oh no.

Molly is by far the largest female initiate, and definitely the scariest, too. She is taller than Peter, but not quite as tall as Al. She is probably as heavy as him though. Her bulbous nose looks like it has been broken dozens of times, and her mouth is constantly pulled down in a scowl: I don't know if she has ever been taught how to smile. I hope Al and Will take a long time so that I have time to think of a strategy. That will be my only advantage, my brain.

Al and Will step up to the ring hesitantly. It has got to suck going first. You have no idea what to expect. Even having one person in front of you would let you understand the guidelines and etiquette.

"Start!" Four orders.

Al and Will circle each other, once in a while jabbing in with their feet to get the other off balance, but nothing really occurs after that. I think we were all hoping that this would count as a fight, and then maybe Four would call a draw, but instead he shouts, "If neither one of you throws a punch in the next 30 seconds, then you both lose."

This sends them both into a frenzy. Al immediately rushes in at Will with his right hand formed into a fist. Will dodges the swing easily, and pops a little jab into Al's belly. Al stumbles back, annoyed. Maybe I can use this strategy against Molly, just duck and counter real quick. Al looks out of breath and irritated. He bobs awkwardly around the ring for a while trying to regain his confidence. Will looks relaxed as if he were just floating in a warm pool, not fighting a giant. It's like David and Goliath.

The fight goes on like this for a while. Al throws a wild punch or kick, and Will dodges it then throws a small punch of his own. It looks like Will is going to win this. Will escapes another powerful blow from Al, and finally gets an actually damaging blow in for himself. He shifts around Al and throws an uppercut into his face. Al moans in pain and stumbles back. He covers his face with his hands. When he finally brings his hands down, they are stained with blood. He looks furious. The Al we had been seeing all fight long was just regular old Al, a gentle giant, but this Al is dangerous. And he's had enough. He charges in towards Will faster than we knew he was capable of. He tackles him and sits on top of him. He drives his fist into Will face one, twice, then stops. Will is already unconscious. Blood is streaming down his face. The class looks horrified, but Four just looks bored. His expression says, _that took long enough_.

"Al take him down to the infirmary. Someone else, go with them." Four requests. Al looks in my direction, hoping that I would volunteer. I bet he wants to talk or something. I stand up.

"No," Four says to me, "Your up next get in the ring, someone else will go with Al." Four spits out Al's name almost jealously, but that couldn't be it, why would Four be jealous of Al?

I slowly get up and drag myself into the ring. Molly is already there, waiting for me. She looks like she is loving every moment of this already. I'll show _her_, I think. The match starts, and Fours advice circles my mind, as well as my strategy. I just have to wait for my opening. Suddenly, Molly lunges. I am just able to avoid a lightening fast strike. Molly isn't as slow as she looks, but I think that I am still faster. I just have to keep on my toes.

I was too surprised to try and strike back, so I just dance out of her path and wait for her to go again. She tries it again, and I am able to evade her fist the second time as well. This time I try to get a hit in on her. Leaving one hand to guard my face, I pull my elbow back and lash at her with it. She is able to recover fast enough that I end up missing her, leaving me off balance. She uses this to her advantage. She kicks me from behind. I fall on my hands and knees. I scramble back up just as a knee hits me in the gut. I lurch over, thinking that I am going to spill my lunch, but I hold onto it and throw a weak punch at Molly's ribcage. I think the impact hurt me more than her.

I am shaking my hand out when she sweeps my feet out from underneath me and I end up on my hands and knees again. I try to get up, but I am so dizzy. Maybe I should concede. No, I can't let her win. I crawl back up just to be met by another face full of Molly's fist. I groan, but don't fall this time. I stagger back up, and decide to try with my knee. I fake like I am going to punch, but then drive my knee up into Molly's fleshy belly. She roars, and then bashes me in the face. I fall like a sack of bricks. Black spots are clouding my eyesight. I can't breathe. Just holding on to consciousness takes all of my focus. Molly is still coming at me. She is raining blows all over me. I curl up into a ball and wait for the darkness to take me.

"Molly. Molly, stop!" Someone shouts, the voice is deep and smooth. Four's, I think.

Someone scoops me up. They hold me to their chest like a small child. I can tell it's Four by the way that the contact sends a thrill through my body, despite that I can barely stay awake.

"You should've conceded," He whispers, more to himself than to me. He might even think I'm out by now. "I don't want to have to see this."

I feel safe now, wrapped up in his arms, and the security allows me to close my eyes and drift into the ocean of unconsciousness.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Been working hard for you guys, LOVE the support. Now, who's ready for some FourTris action?**

Chapter 11

Tris

I _really _hope I'm not dead, cause if this is heaven, then it sucks. I know there is supposed to be a lot of white light or something, but this is too much. The brilliant light adds to the already acute pounding in my head, turning the dull throbbing sensation into more of a splitting one. Also, there is a buzzing noise in the room, like an army of mosquitos are hovering over me. A heaven with mosquitos is no heaven to me.

I sit up and try to take in my surroundings. Everything is white or glass, and excessively clean. Seems like everyone up here is a clean freak, too. I am sitting in an small cot with white linen sheets, much like my one at home. The white tile floor is immaculate, and the dazzling light from above can be seen reflected in it. There is a mirror to my right, where I can see what I assume is my reflection, but looks much different than me. The reflection's face is a gross, swollen mixture of purple and yellow, but she moves when I move and looks where I look, so she must be me. The front of the room is mainly taken up by a window, but the window doesn't show me the outside, but rather the inside of a long, barren hallway.

Two people are talking in the hallway. The first one is a sweet looking young lady with silvery blonde hair and a light blue outfit. She looks like she could be an angel; The other person does not. He is tall, lean, an dressed in all black. He sways from foot to foot, tension pulling his face taut. His eyes are the most beautiful blue, a familiar blue. A light bulb switches on in my head. I recognize him, it's Four. He notices me looking, but I don't turn away like my mind is begging me to. Instead I wave and smile. He tugs on the lady's sleeve and she leads him into the room.

"Hey, Tris," the nice lady greets me warmly. "How are you feeling?"

I frown. I'm not going to answer any questions until I get some answers of my own.

"This isn't heaven, is it?" I wonder aloud, my head swimming.

The lady smiles sweetly, "No, Tris, this is the infirmary. You got hit pretty hard, so you've been staying with us tonight."

"Oh," I gasp. The events of yesterday afternoon flood back to me. "I remember."

"Good, that's a good sign." The lady says kind of to me, but more to Four.

"What time is it?" I ask.

Four checks his watch. "2:30 am," He responds.

I pout. "You've gotta be tired, you should go home," I tell him. "In fact, I should go home, too." I turn to the nurse. "Can I do that?"

She considers it for a moment. "We would have to get some stuff checked out first, but I think you can."

"Okay."

She exits, leaving me and Four alone.

"I don't think you ever answered her question," Four reminds me. "So, I'll ask it again. How are you feeling, Tris?" Hearing my name in his mouth gives me a warm, tingly feeling, but it's the only good thing I'm feeling right now. My head, my stomach, my muscles, and my everything else is in pain.

"Like crap," I say. It's not really that funny, but I giggle anyways. Deep in my subconscious, a voice is whispering, _what the hell is wrong with you?_ but I don't pay any attention to it. I feel a little like I'm floating.

A tortured look crosses Four's face. His voice is very, very sad when he says, "I'm sorry Tris. So, so sorry." I've never seen him so pitiful, so human. It's a bit disconcerting.

"For what?" I ask, puzzled.

"What do you mean 'for what'? I'M the reason you're in here. I was trying to prove a point to the rest of them, and... And you got hurt..." He trails off, anguish painted on his face.

"_You_ weren't the one who hit me, Four, or the reason I can't fight. Some of the other kids, they have been doing this all of their lives. They get into fights, they get into trouble, and their rich parents ship them to a new boarding school. I'm not like that, and that's NOT your fault. Besides, you're in here at 2 in the morning just because you care. You-" I stop my rant, feeling dizzy.

Four notices my discomfort. "Tris?" He inquires. He looks concerned.

"I'm fine," I tell him. "Just feel a little funny. Kinda loopy, ya know?" My thoughts were becoming more and more hazy.

He nodded, "Probably just the pain meds," he explained.

I nod, and then we sit in silence for a while. It wasn't uncomfortable like it should have been, considering that we had just met weeks ago, and that he has asserted himself as more of a teacher than a peer, but we just sit like we have been good friends for years instead of becoming really acquainted in the last few minutes.

My painkiller addled mind begins to wander, wondering if friends hold hands. It seems like a friendly enough thing to do. Four's hand is loosely draped over the railing of my cot, palm up. It would be so easy just to take his hand in mine. Easy enough that, in my partially delirious state, it seems like it might be a good idea. Even if he might think I'm strange, even if he is put off.

I swallow my doubt and go for it. I take his hand and hold it firmly. He stares, looking bewildered. _Maybe this wasn't a good idea_, my reasonable subconscious mutters. _Yeah? Where were you a few moments ago?_ I shoot back at it. Oh, well. I'm all in now. I stare up at him.

"You're a good guy, Four," I tell him.

He hesitates for a moment, but then curls his fingers around mine and brings his other hand over to wrap up mine completely. His eyes don't leave mine for a moment. My heart flutters. I'm not sure how long we stay here like this, but I know it could never be long enough.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A woman taps on the glass, shaking us from our thoughts. She gestures for Four to come out.

"Stay put," He says using his instructor voice.

He taps his foot worriedly. "So, any bad damage?" He asks quietly. He obviously doesn't want me to hear anything, I have to really strain to hear their words.

"Yea, minor concussion, but no fractures or broken bones. She got very lucky," A woman says. It's the same lady from earlier. I recognize the kindness in her speech.

"So, she's good to go?" Another voice asks. I immediately link the voice to its owner, Four.

"Yes, as soon as she is up."

"Are you sure that-" Four begins to argue. I cut him off by getting up loudly and moving to the door. I don't want him to keep me stuck in here for any longer than I have to be. The drowsy, carefree feelings from before had begun to wear off. I was now alert, and Four is not going to get in my way of getting out.

"Tris, sweetie, you're up," the nurse ignores Four's doubt and tends to me, "Is there anything I can get you?"

"Uh, maybe out of here?" It's not particularly funny, but the nurse laughs anyways.

"Sure thing, sweetie, we were just working on that," She smiles at Four. I just noticed how pretty she is. Her skin is glowing and her blonde hair appears soft. Her face is flawless, and she is talking to Four. A pang of jealousy strikes me before I realize that it is totally irrational, not to mention inappropriate to be jealous over a boy who happens to also be your afternoon Dauntless student instructor. We are just friends.

She is nice, so I should try to be nice back to her, I decide. "Come this way," She starts off down the long hall and leads us through a labyrinth of impeccably clean hallways until we finally got to the exit.

"Thank you," I tell her, trying to make it sound as heartfelt as possible.

"No problem, sweetheart," She recites, soft as honey. I can tell that she says this often.

On the way out, I realize I never asked her for her name. I wonder if Four knows.

"Four, what was the nurses name who helped me out?"

"Delilah," He says clearly.

"She was nice," I say. He just nods.

I'm feeling lucky tonight, I mean, there is no way my day could get worse, so I decide to push my luck again. I slip my hand into Four's, entwining our fingers. Much to my elation, he didn't pull away. Friends don't feel this way, my subconscious pushes, but I ignore her. This feels too nice and natural to not be right.

We reach the initiate's sleeping area as the sun is just coming up.

"it's gotta be almost time to go to classes," I groan.

"Don't worry about it," He reassures me. "I'll get in touch with your professors and get you off the hook," he smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

"Thanks."

He nods. "Good night, Tris."

"Good night."

That should've been it, but we just stand there awkwardly for a moment. The sun is coming up around us, drenching us in early morning light. People will be up soon. Four seems to realize this, too. He presses his lips to my forehead delicately. My pulse quickens and sweat forms in my palms. But as quick as it began, it ended. He aims one last apologetic look at me, then turns on his heels and speeds down the hallway.

I don't recover my ability to think until he is out of sight. I creep into the bedroom and plop down on my bed, willing myself to recount the days events. However, exhaustion had settled into my brain, turning my thoughts foggy. Instead I just decide to lie still and wait for sleep to take me.

**A/N: Any questions, comments, or ideas? Leave a review!**


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Tris

Waking up is much less pleasant here than in the hospital. The pain meds have now completely worn off, and I am acutely aware of the violent pain radiating from all over my body. My muscles scream when I reach over to grab two Advil from my suitcase.

I don't really feel like walking all the way to the bathroom, so I just dry swallow them. I check my watch. It reads 11:45. That means I have fifteen minutes until lunch hour begins. I have nothing to do at the moment, so I choose to lie in bed until the Advil kicks on. My mind is still muddled, but I try to piece together the events of yesterday. In my tired, aching state, I can only place people: Ms. Matthews, Peter, Al, Molly, Four. A lot of people, a lot of dilemmas. All of this thinking is making my brain hurt, so I stop.

It's 12:00 before I know it. I roll out of bed. The Advil had dulled my pain so that it was now managable. I am able to walk on my own two feet into the bathroom, shower, and get dressed without incident. I am feeling refreshed when I walk into the dining hall.

Upon my entrance, whispers start. At first, I thought I was just being paranoid, silly. But as I continue my short walk to my friends' table, I start to doubt that I'm just being paranoid. When I walk by kids snicker and point or cat call. My face wasn't THAT bad, last time I checked. Only a black eye and a couple of cuts across my face. In Dauntless, people show up with worse injuries, and often. Molly must be spreading some sort of awful rumor.

I sit down at my table. "Hey guys," I greet them.

My warm greeting is met by worried or dumbfounded stares.

"Are you okay?" Christina asks immediately.

"Yes, I'm fine. Just a minor concussion." I say, then desperate to not be the center of attention, I ask Will how he is holding up.

He hesitates, looking at an obviously ashamed Al, before saying "Quite fine, thank you."

I nod. I need to come up with another question, quick. I really don't want the conversation turning back to me. Undoubtedly, there are already enough people talking about me. They think I don't notice their hushed tones and quick peeks at me, but I do. I really wonder what Molly cooked up. It must be good.

"How did your fight go, Christina?" Is the first one that I come up with.

Her face brightens. "Awesome. I won. Myra didn't even get a hit in." Her grin falters for a moment. "Four left, though. He said it was an emergency. Left us with some prick named Eric. Made us fight until the other person was unconscious or otherwise disabled." The name sounds vaguely familiar, but I don't ask about him. The others had bounced into a lively conversation about how much of a jackass this Eric fellow was, and I didn't want to risk becoming the center of the conversation, so I just slide into my thoughts.

Four is sitting on the other side of the cafeteria. He is in a tense conversation with the other student teacher, Lauren. She is whispering, nodding in the general direction of our table. Four looks livid; his eyes are bright with fury, his fists are balled and his bulging arm muscles are taut, like a cable pulled tight. Lauren pulls out her phone and scrolls through something, until she finally finds what she is looking for. She turns the phone around for Four to see, and he immediately pulls back, looks away from the screen and storms off.

I had been so entranced in their exchange that I hadn't noticed the heavy footsteps coming up from behind me. I am shocked when Peter, who is inches behind me, barks, "Hey! Stiff!"

I shove back against the table. Christina, Will and Al had stopped talking and gotten up from their seats.

"Peter." I spit.

"Yea, nice to see you too," He snorts."Have you checked your email today?"

I frown. "Whatever you said on there, you can say to me here and now."

He looks amused by my courage. "Maybe I don't want to, Stiff," He says, his voice getting lower and lower. It is just a whisper when he says, "I told you that you would pay."

I shiver. Christina, Al and Will sit back down, relieved that they didn't actually have to fight Peter. Apparently, he whipped Drew yesterday.

"What was that all about?" Christina urges.

I sigh. "He said to check my email," I pull out my phone as I say this, and hit the Safari app. It takes a minute to load. I'm not really that worried. I'm sure it is just another threat. I finally reach my inbox, and find the message from Peter. The message itself says: _Take a gander at this_: and then underneath the message is a picture. The same picture that he took of me in the shower on the first day. My face is a mask of terror, and my body is completely visible. I check to make sure he just sent it to me. He didn't. He sent it to everyone in the school.

My throat feels like it is closing up. My hands are shaking from rage. I can't believe him. This is what people must be laughing about. I check the people behind me, who are giggling.

"I have to go," I announce abruptly. I rise jerkily, forgetting my meal, and swiftly exit the dining hall. By the time I am at the exit, I am almost running. I don't know where I am going yet, but my body seems to. I carry myself to the training room. Only when I get there do I understand my intent. I want to hit something, hard.

I enter the hand to hand combat room expecting to be alone. Unfortunately, I am not. In fact, the last person on Earth that I want to see right now is standing directly in front of me, tearing into a bag. Four jumps around, surprised by my forceful entrance. He is sticky with sweat and his knuckles are torn and bloody, despite he could only have been here for minutes. I think I now understand what his exchange with Lauren was about.

I am mortified. I want to run or hide, but my legs feel like gelatin. I try to scuttle back out of the room, but Four stops me, grabbing my arm.

"Tris." His eyes are still burning.

"Yes," I whimper. I am trying to hold it together, but I'm pretty sure that I am going to cry right here, in his sight.

His voice is instructor-like, not full of pity or judgement like I thought it might be. It makes me feel a little safer. "You need to tell me what happened, because I am truly doubtful that your will had anything to do with that."

I don't want him to think I'm weak. Too many people already think I am. I sit down on the stairs of the ring, and he does the same. I take a huge breath, and then spill about the incident on the first day of school.

I finish, and sneak a glance at Four. He looks murderous.

"You could get him kicked out," Four whispers hoarsely.

"I could, but there's not a whole lot of evidence. I could just end up in more trouble with him than I'm already in. Anyways, I could get kicked out of Dauntless for being a tattle tale. Heck, I could get kicked out just for letting him do this to me in the first place," I reason.

Four pouts- Did I already mention how sexy he looks when he pouts?- and then nods. "I suppose you're right... But you can't let him just get away with it, either. He'll just do it again."

I consider this, "Do you have something in mind?"

"I could teach him a lesson for you," A frightening bloodlust coats his words.

I think about it. My ego is wounded just that he pondered the idea. The reasonable part of my mind realizes that this might work, for now, but Four couldn't always be watching out for me. He has better things to do.

"No." I try to act indignant, like I was insulted that he thinks I can't fight for myself. I mean, it's the truth, but it's not what I want him to think about me.

We've seemed to run out of ideas, but then he pipes up, "What if I give you lessons? This way, you can defend yourself, and I get to practice, too."

Hmm. I like this idea. It's the brave thing to do, it's the smart thing to do, and I have an excuse to hang out with Four.

"Okay..." I agree cautiously. Four looks pleased.

"Should we start today?" He offers.

I nod. "Today, after class."

I stretch my hand out, I wanted to solidify the deal, but more than anything else, I just wanted an excuse to touch Four again. "Deal?"

He takes my hand, sending the best type of vibrations through my entire body. "Deal." He agrees.

**A/N: Two in one day! WOOT! Been hard at work for you guys. Y'all are lucky that I'm stuck at my grandparent's house this long weekend. Hope everyone is having a great Labor Day weekend. Remember, as fun as it is to just read fan fics all day, you should probably hang with your families today, too!**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Before I begin this chapter, I want to clear up a few things. First of all, I want to thank all of you for the amazing feedback. I read and appreciate all of your reviews. With that said, there has been some confusion about whether or not Four knows what Peter did to Tris. I kind of glazed over it because I didn't want to have to re write the same scene. But he does know, just to be clear. Also, I have gotten a request for some Four POV stuff. I'm not sure if I should just wait until the end to put in some 'bonus' style chapters, or halt the plot, go back and put some Four POV right now, or do the latter, but a little later... Opinions? Sorry for the super long note, just wanted to get all of that out there. **

Chapter 13

Tris

For most of the afternoon hand to hand combat class, I just sit in a rickety wooden chair, watching the fights. Christina fights Molly, Molly wins. Will fights Drew, Will wins. Edward fights Peter, Edward wins (that was a fun one to watch: Peter ended up curled in the fetal position, bleeding profusely). The only thing that keeps me from going insane is when I would catch Four trying to sneak in a glance my way. He thinks he is being sly, but he _really_ wasn't. It's funny, very un-Four.

At 3ish, Four dismisses the class. He holds my gaze, while everyone exits, making sure that I don't skip out on him. He seems nervous.

"Tris," Christina beckons me over to where she, Will, and Al were standing. Four is standing rigid in the ring. He's trying very hard to look disinterested in my exchange. I don't want him to have a heart attack, so I just wave Christina on with a gesture that was meant to say, _go ahead, I'll meet up_. She gets the point and tugs Will out into the hallway. Al lingers for an extra moment, then follows.

"So," I say, strolling over to Four, "Where do we begin?"

He smiles encouragingly. He seems pleased by my interest. "At the beginning. We are going to go over the basic strikes again."

I hope he doesn't see my face fall. We've already gone over the basic strikes, on the first day of school. I can't afford to waste anytime going over the same crap again and again. I hope he makes this worthwhile.

He drags me over to the nearest punching bag. He already has switched into instructor mode. "You already know what a jab is, so I'm not going to waste your time with the origin and defintion and whatnot." I like the sound of that. "Instead, I will be teaching you how to preform a jab correctly so that it becomes a much more powerful, useful tool for you."

He orients himself so that I can see him from the side, making it easier to follow along.

"First, the stance," he says a little absently. His attention is now totally focused on the bag in front of him. His mouth is moving automatically, as is his body. "I want you to watch me, really watch me. Focus on how far apart my feet are, how I'm balanced, and where my hands are." I study his stance. He is bouncing on the balls of his feet, keeping him balanced and ready to move if needed. The motion keeps his leg muscles tight, in a controlled kind of way. His hips are not squared towards the bag, but rather facing away. His hands are kept up in order to protect his face. I can see his whole body is tense. The result is similar to the elegance of a cobra prepared to strike, deadly and quick.

I try to hold myself in the same way. Maybe his confidence, added to his skill, of course, is what makes him so good. I hold my head up high and mimic his position. He breaks his own stance to check mine. He walks around me, looking me up and down. Normally, this might make me uncomfortable, but he wasn't looking at me in the way that Peter would. Rather, he seemed to be viewing me objectively, like I wasn't a girl, or even a human. More like a math problem that he needed to solve, or an essay he needed to fix.

"Hmmm," He walks close, puncturing the little bubble of personal space that I like to keep. I'm a little startled, but not quite irritated. He taps his chin. "Wider stance, elbows in, and don't stay still."

I make the adjustments. He does one more circle, and then nods, appeased.

"Okay. Now the actual movement." He gets back into his stance. "What you want to do, is really just extend your front hand, which will be your left hand, straight out. Now, the important part is that nothing else moves, but you need to keep your legs, your core, everything engaged the entire time, and at the last moment, rotate your first so that the thumb will be facing down. Just watch, okay?"

He sets up, and without any warning, no step, no pull back, juts his arm out. Once, again, it looks as fatal as a cobra strike.

I frown. There's no way mine will have the same effect. I blow a strand of hair out of my face, and get back into my stance. I could feel Four's eyes scrutinizing my every move. I am sweating bullets now. It's hot in here and I'm desperate to not look like a sissy, a pansy.

I try to pull all of my strength into my left arm as I wind up and shoot my fist out at the bag. I think that it's considerably stronger than before, but not the same as Four's. I look back at him for his feedback. He seems indifferent, but he always does, so I don't try to evaluate his reaction. He'll explain himself. Now that I'm getting to know him, I've begun to notice his patterns.

Just as I predicted, He begins making adjustments. He'll makes one, then I punch again, and then he makes another change. I am getting very impatient by the tenth or so punch. We've been doing this for a half an hour, and it's just a jab. I have plenty of other things to learn, some might even be more useful. I'm going to make this the last one, I decide.

I picture Four's jab in my mind, and try to mimic the aura of deadly calm. Instead of trying to draw massive strength into my limbs, I try to summon control. A surge of energy goes through me. I feel like I'm vibrating. My arm flies out like it has a mind of it's own. The way this one feels when I hit the bag is so much different that all of the others. It feels like power. The bag is shaking, and dust from the bag hangs in the air. I turn to Four, expectant. Surprisingly, he is grinning from ear to ear.

"There it is," He affirms.

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The rest of the session lasts two hours. We move on to some of the other basics, including the cross, uppercut, hook, several kicks, and using elbows and knees. Once I got the jab, the other ones take much less time and explanation. I already know the stance, and have discovered the importance of both focus and control.

I check my watch. It's almost six. I don't have any homework, but I have to eat and relax a little. I don't want to go insane.

I watch Four. His white t-shirt was plastered to his chest, drenched in sweat. I assume I don't look that much better.

"Um, I think I'm gunna go take a shower," I call to him from across the room, "Can we continue this tomorrow?"

I think disappointment crosses his face fleetingly, but he covers it up with his stony, instructor look. "Absolutely, I'm sure you've got stuff to do. I know that everyone is going home for the long weekend, I bet you have to pack your bags."

Shoot. I have totally forgotten about this weekend. Caleb and I are going to fly back to Chicago for the last weekend together until Thanksgiving.

"Uh, yeah." I say lamely. Slightly uncomfortable silence ensues as we pack up our stuff. There's really not much to say. I toss my backpack over my shoulder.

"Thanks," I say, walking up to him.

"Sure, I'm always happy to help. It's part of being Dauntless, I suppose."

I nod, then pause. Do I shake his hand? Hug him? Hi-Five him? Crap. I hadn't thought about it. Now that I've been standing here longer than normal, I have to do _something_. I look up at him. He seems to be hesitant as well. It could be that he's thinking about this dilemma as well, but I doubt it. He doesn't seem like the type of person who would care.

I decide to keep it professional. I offer my hand out, waiting for a handshake. He eyes my outstretched hand with amusement, but takes it. My palm prickles.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Tris. Bright and early."

"Yup, see ya tomorrow," I mumble. I can't focus on his words above the sound of my pulse in my ears. I instantly regret the friendly handshake. I want to touch him more. I feel it like a magnetic pull. A pull to someone who is way out of your league, to your student teacher, the sane part of me points out, guiding back into reality. Wait. Did he say bright and early?

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait, and the not particularly productive chapter (seriously, it was lame), but I had SERIOUS writers block. Won't take so much time for next chapter, I promise.**


	14. Chapter 12 (Four's POV)

**A/N: YAY! There was enough Four POV support that I'm going to try it. If you don't want to read Four's POV, just skip. No plot progressions are made (on purpose). Depending on how this goes, I might make more, or I might not. This chapter is set right after Chapter 11. It begins with Four's reaction to it. Side Note: check out the new cover! I drew it during Spanish class, it is what I imagined Four looking like throughout the book, so… with out further ado… yes I just used that...**

Chapter 12

From Four's POV

The crisp morning air drags through my nose like sandpaper. My breaths are harsh and ragged. My legs burn like they are on fire. The world blurs by. Some people may call me a masochist, but I love the way it feels. It wakes me up and numbs me at the same time. Running is the best because I feel it, but my mind is free to wander. This morning, it wanders to Tris.

Last night... was... confusing. The way she held my hand, everything she said, the way I felt, it was all new, exciting, beyond anything I could've possibly imagined, but still... I'm conflicted. Tris is, well, Tris. There's no other way to describe her. She's completely her own. Beautiful in her own way, strong in her own way, and just the most interesting person I've ever met. She knows what she wants, and she's going to get there one way or another.

_BUT_, I make myself digress from Tris' awesomeness,_ I am her instructor_._ I'm not going to make my first, girlfriend, my first kiss, my first love_- I stop myself there. I am her instructor, and she is too good for me, too good for a damaged, more like broken, boy like me.

In the short rest I had last night, I had dreamed about her. At first, it was just like every other, I am locked in my closet, my father, I try not to call him that, is pulling off of his belt. The maids won't hear my whimpers when I'm in here. Even if they do, they pretend not to. "This is for your own good." The dream man says. I freeze up, waiting for the first strike. I watch the floor, like always. The floor was the most beautiful pale blue, the same blue as Tris' eyes.

Suddenly, the scene changes. I am underneath the net, on the first day of school. I know my father is closer than he has been in the year since I got here. Just yards, maybe a mile, away. A silhouette forms at the top of the building. The initiates are here. The first one steps up, quicker than usual. I feel fear of my own building up, bubbling beneath the surface, for the person at the top- I hate heights.

The form falls swiftly. Its a girl with soft blonde hair. I know who it is, I was here before, in real life. It's Tris. But I still reach up and grab for her, I still pull her down, I still lose my breath when I first look into her eyes, clear and brighter than any others. Then, I woke up.

Tris saved me from my father. She, just for a moment, took away my fear, and that was long enough for the dream to change.

My daydream ends as I pull up to the Dauntless compound. I use the entrance inside of the storage unit. There is a little trap door at the bottom, next to the gaping hole in the middle. It leads to a ladder, which you can then climb down to get to the Pit. It's much more convenient than always jumping, as well as less terrifying.

In order to get back to my room and shower quickly before afternoon classes, I have to make it through the maze of the Dauntless dormitories, and through the dining hall without being spotted by Lauren, who will, no doubt want to discuss our initiates.

I crawl through the corridors, sneaking in the shadows, but when I get to the dining hall, I know I'm screwed. Lauren is sitting by the only entrance to the sophomore wing of the dormitories. My only chance is to try to blend in with the mass of students exiting the hall. I pause, making sure that there is no other way to avoid her. There's not.

I shuffle through the masses, hunching slightly so that I don't tower above. Lauren seems like she has news. She bounces in her chair, and whistles. She looks more like Amity than Dauntless, right now, but don't let that fool you, she's scary when she needs to be.

I am almost through and she hasn't seen me. My luck seems to be pretty crappy today, though. Just as I am about to be free, Lauren gets up to clear her tray. She is coming right at me. If I make a break for it, or disrupt the flow, she'll find me easily. So, I just keep quiet and keep going forward. I almost... Shit. Lauren's face lights up and she waves me over.

I stroll over like I had intended to all along. I'm a very good actor, mostly from acting around and about my father- I mean, Marcus. So, I put on a smile and glide over.

"Hey, Lauren," I say.

Lauren skips the formalities, one of her better tendencies, "Four, have you seen it yet?"

"Seen what?"

"Y'know your initiate, Tris?"

Of course I know Tris, she's the only thing running through my mind today. Lauren doesn't need to know this. I just give her a careful nod.

"Well, you better keep your eye on her, she seems like she's a little trouble maker."

"What do you mean?" I guess Tris seems like the type of stubborn person, but Lauren makes it sound like a scandal.

Lauren pauses for dramatic effect. "Your initiate," She says, "Is a little ho."

Anger flares in me. How could Lauren say that about Tris without knowing anything about her. At that moment, I have to restrain myself from attacking Lauren.

I flick my eyes over to Tris. She couldn't be a slut. She's just not like that. With her firm voice, and her tenacity, and her stormy blue eyes that bore into mine, for just a moment. Even the brief eye contact sends an electricity through my body.

"What makes you say that?" I snap.

"Well, you know Peter?" Another one of her annoying rhetorical questions. "

Of course I know Peter." I bark. My patience is wearing very thin. She'd better get to the point.

"Well," She starts again, continuing to draw out her information, "On his instagram, he posted a picture of her."

I wait, jealousy coursing through me like poison, seeping through my veins, turning me to stone. I don't want someone as cruel and ruthless as Peter hanging around Tris.

"It was a nude." Lauren finishes.

I try to stifle the strangled noise that had just escaped my throat. Lauren mistook my tortured groan as a chuckle.

"Four. You don't believe me, do you?" She looks annoyed. She has no right to feel anything right now. It should all belong to me. All the hate, anger, and everything should all be mine, to throw in Peter's face later.

Lauren is rifling through her bag. She pulls out her phone. I know what she is going to do. _I don't want to see it_. I tell myself. But that's not true. I do, I want it more than anything else. I shouldn't and don't want to, but I'm being held here by myself. I do and I don't. I do and I don't. I don't have much time to think about it. Lauren is pulling out her phone, and turning the screen towards me. Too late now.

The screen flashes towards me and I see her. All of her. She is so, beautiful. So delicate and beautiful. Desire spreads hot through my body. I've never felt like this, either. Tris makes me feel different. Watching her makes me ache. I know I'll never be good enough for her. I can just sit and want. My gaze travels up her, my breathing becomes shallow. I hope Lauren doesn't notice. I reach her face. It is the most beautiful of all, but her expression is marred with fear.

She didn't want to do this. Relief surges through my body, followed quickly by a new, hotter wave of anger. Peter made her do this. It must have been Peter. My hands quake, and my whole body is filled with a more familiar heat, not desire, but blood lust. I need to leave before I start a fight and blow my cover.

"I need to shower." I announce curtly and shove off from the table. Peter is going to pay. I have the resources. He will.

**A/N: Hope you loved it! I do have one more question. A friend of mine said it would be cool if I dropped a lemon (explicit) scene in. TBH, I'm not sure if I like the idea- I wouldn't even know where to start. I was hoping to keep Tris' fear of intimacy in order to avoid this slightly awkward subject. However, as my fans, you hold the real power (This is a democracy!) so I would at least like to offer the idea…. With a particular outcome in mind…. but don't let my opinion sway you. I'll do anything for you guys.**


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Tris

I don't have much time to worry about Four's final words. Christina, Al, and Will all turn the corner, looking a little frantic. Christina's eyes light up when she sees me.

"There you are!" she exclaims. 'We've been looking all over for you. Where'd you go?"

"I was just getting some extra help." I half-lie. I don't think Four would want all of the other initiates knowing about our little tutoring sessions.

Christina don't buy it. "But you all sweaty?" She pushes.

"Yes... I took a jog, afterwards," I cover.

Christina still looks a little suspicious, but only shrugs.

"Well, we are going to go get tattoos if you want to join us." She says.

"Tattoos? I thought you had to be 18 to get them without parental consent."

Christina grins. "That's only if your not in Dauntless."

"Huh?"

"Just come on, Tris." She pulls me by the wrist down the corridor, into the area where seniors usually sleep. She stops at a door near the end of the area. "Okay," She whispers. "Tori, y'know the girl from initiation?" I nod. "Well, she has, like, professional tattoo kits, and is super awesome. She's where they all get tattoos."

"Oh, that's why they all like her," I deduce.

Unfortunately, as I said that, the door swings open, revealing a very intimidating asian girl, dressed in all black, the same one from initiation. I just insulted the girl who is about to give me a tattoo.

I gulp. I expect her to look livid, or maybe defensive, but instead she just looks amused.

"I would like to think that there are other reasons, too. Maybe my personality?"

I just stand and gape, my mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.

She laughs and winks at me. "I assume that your all here to get tattoos?"

We nod in unison.

"Come on in." She opens the door, and welcomes us in. Her room is like all of the other upperclassmen's rooms but also much different. While she has the same 2 bed setup as the other upperclassmen (underclassmen share 4 people to a room, and initiates just share a big room together), and the same black tiled floor, every inch of her side of the room is covered in drawings. There is everything, from cute little flowers to intricate skull designs. She waves her arms to the drawings on the wall. "Pick one, any one."

I wander around the room, just staring at the drawings. I'm not even sure if I want one. Sure, I like the idea of one, but I'll have to hid it from my parents, and I might not even like the way it turns out.I was about to give up, and just settle for watching Al squirm in the chair, when I saw it. I knew that it was the one instantly. It was a wave. Simple and bold in its design, it symbolizes one of my fears. I'm Dauntless, now. I need to get over it. I can't be scared of drowning. I can't be scared of anything.

I nod at the picture, "Can I get this one?"

Tori smiles. "Great choice. Where do you want it."

"Inside of my ankle." I point to exactly where. It's perfect it's simple, just a curved line, it's easy to hide, and it is important to me. The wave itself is symbolic of my fear, and its placement symbolic of my overcoming it.

"Y'know," Tori says as she wipes her needle with antiseptic, "The wave has a lot of meaning, particularly in a tattoo. It means permanent strength and mystery. Nothing can overpower the ocean."

I just smile. I think I picked the most painful place to get one. It is right on top of a bunch of bones. I grip the arm of the chair tightly. The needle pricks my skin. I pull sharp breaths through my teeth, but before I know it, its over. It's perfect. I thank Tori, and get on to the fun part, watching my friends go through the same process.

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"Mom is gunna freak."

Caleb and I are sitting on the bus home from the airport. I have my jeans rolled up to my knee, and Caleb is staring, horrified, at my new tat.

"Mom," I remind him, "Doesn't need to know."

It was a bad idea to tell him. I know he is a huge tattler, if we are going to use that word, and that he will probably tell my mom, if not now then later. But I couldn't control myself, it just needed to be done.

The bus rattles to a stop. I grab my backpack, which is so heavy from being totally stuffed to the point of bursting. My mom and dad are standing outside of the house. They are huddled in anticipation. I wonder if they already know which faction we chose.

Immediately off the bus, I am swamped by hugs and kisses and "Welcome homes". The familiar, warm, masculine smell of my dad comforts me, along with the feel of my mother's soft cardigan, both wrapping around me, instilling me with a sense of safety that I have felt very rarely with

"I've got supper on the table," My mom says, "You guys must be hungry." She knows us too well.

Caleb and I snatch up our stuff and run into the house, like we're five again and mother told us to wash up before dinner. I burst through the red door, up the staircase and into my room. It looks the same as before, the same as the rest of our house. Not cozy, but homey nonetheless. I breath in the smell of our house. It smells like coffee, lemon and dust. I can smell the food that mom prepared for our arrival. I can smell spices and flavors that we have never been allowed to try before, it would have been too self indulgent. Mom, however, has seemed to declare today as a holiday or such, so we go along with it.

I slip out of my sweats from the plane ride and into something a little more grown-up looking. I bought some clothes with Christina from the Dauntless faction apparel store. It's where the Dauntless get most of their crap. That, and Hot Topic, yuck. So, I dress in black skinny jeans and was about to put on a fitting black tee, but I realized that it would probably give away what faction I chose. I don't want to dissapoint my parents, yet, so I instead put on a flowy grey blouse.

Caleb is downstairs already when I get there. He must've had the same thoughts as me because he is wearing a grey sweater and grey slacks. My mother is watching me expecantly, and my father is watching the large bowl of soup and the massive plate of salad before him.

"There you, are sweetie," My mother coos, uh oh, they were waiting for me.

"Sorry," I whisper. I'm already falling back into old patterns.

"It's okay," She assures me, but the starving look on my father's face tells me otherwise. I sit quickly, and wait for my father to say grace. He says a rushed prayer about how happy he is to have his whole family, and about how much luck he wishes for us in the rest of the year. I look down at my feet in respect for him and for God. I forgot what it was like to have a relaxing meal free of shouting, food fights, or drama.

Then we begin. I look down at the meal that my father was so eager to get to. It looks the same as usual, a huge glop of lima beans, a small serving of quinoa, and a gluten free whole, except for the hunk of chicken in the middle. Woah, my mother has never served meat before, she said it was for our own good.

"Chicken?" I ask my mother.

She smiles, "Yes, I figured it was selfish to deprive you of the experience of eating meat, without you being able to form an opinion for yourself."

I glance at Caleb. Guilt coats his eyes. He must have tried some at the cafeteria, with the other Erudite. "Actually-" He starts. I cut him off with a curt shake of my head. "Um," the same indesicion from Choosing day is plain on his face. He betrayed them last time, so he should have no trouble lying to them for a little bit now. He belongs to Erudite, not Candor. "The chicken is quite good." He says nervously.

Mother smiles. I notice that, while the rest of us have chicken, she still does not. "I'm glad you like it sweetie. What about you, Beatrice?" The use of my full name confuses me for a minutes, but I cover it up by pretending to think about it. The chicken itself is dry and tasteless compared to what the Dauntless make, but my father is gulping it down ravenously, selfishly. He wants more chicken, and to get that for him I should probably say yes. "I like it," I declare, and its true, it's better than tofu. My mother looks indifferent. She's very good at that.

"So," My dad finally enters the conversation, having finished his entire chicken."How's school?"

"Fine." Caleb and I lie in unison. Caleb had told me about his difficulties in Erudite including his trouble with the more advanced stuff, and putting up with Ms. Matthews.

"Grades?" My father asks.

"Awesome." Caleb grins proudly. He's taken on some of the arrogance of his school house already.

"Um, about that," I titter nervously, "I actually have something for you to sign."

My father frowns, looking quite suspicious.

"May I be excused so that I may get it?" I request, unbelievably remembering to use my manners despite the amount of time that I have spent with the rowdy members of my faction.

"Yes, Beatrice." The use of my full name surprises me, but I think I hide it well enough. I scramble out of my chair and upstairs. I have to rummage through my bag for a couple of minutes before I find it. I run back downstairs, expecting the conversation to have switched topics, but I forgot that that's not how we do it around here. They are all sitting quietly, politely awaiting me return.

"I apologize to keep you waiting," I mutter. I pass the note to my father, who reads it.

He seems disappointed for the majority of it until the end, when he suddenly jumps from his chair, his lethargy transforming into indignation.

"Jeanine Matthews is your principal AND science teacher?" He shouts.

"Uh, yes?" The end of my answer rises into a question.

"Well, no wonder," He grumbles. "She hates everyone from Abnegation, especially you two."

I was about to ask why she would hate us especially, but Caleb cut in.

"About that…" I am hoping he sees me shaking my head frantically, but, even if he does, he doesn't care. "We didn't choose Abnegation…"

My mother looks surprised, but my father looks irate.

"What do you _mean _you didn't choose Abnegation? That's what we raised you to look up to, that's where I belonged, when I was young."

Caleb, who is _supposed_ to be the intelligent one, doesn't recognize the question was rhetorical.

"Well, Tris chose Dauntless, and I chose Erudite." He still hasn't noticed me freaking out on the other side of the table.

My father's glare darkens. His words become sharper, "I can't believe this. Excuse me." He pushes off from the table and storms out of the door, grabbing his keys on the way.

I sit in stunned silence. _Well done Caleb_, I think.

**A/N: I can say, quite relieved, that there WILL NOT be a lemon in this story… Thank all of you for your input, though. Also, I wish I have been able to update more frequently, but I have gotten super busy, even on the weekends. It has become pretty hard to juggle soccer, school, my social life, my job, AND writing. I just want to assure you guys that I'm not going to be giving up on this story, I just am super busy. Sorry. **


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Tris

3 hours later, my father still hasn't returned. I kinda feel bad. His two children abandoned the ideals that he had given them, and He feels betrayed. The 'Beatrice' in me from before school hurts for him, and wishes I could change my decision, but the 'Tris' in me wants to go find him and tell him to suck it up. I mean, it's not like we died or something. Just get over it.

I end up doing neither of these. I just sit in my bed, depressed and angry at the same time. The coarse grey sheets cloak me in familiar comfort, which allows my heart rate to slow, and my breathing to even out. I am on the verge of oblivion when I hear a knock on my door.

"Dad?"

"No," a quiet, lovely voice coos, "It's Mom,"

"Oh. Hi."

We just sit there in silence for a moment. I don't really know what to say. After dad left tonight, none of us said a word. We just helped clean up and went to bed. I don't even know where to start.

"So... Dauntless? What's that like?" The question sounds genuine, not laced with venom like I might have guessed it would.

I decide to reward her with an honest response, "It's hard. The people there can be mean, and the work is tough... But it's where I belong. I feel it. When I'm jumping off a train, or just doing something brave... I feel it..."

My mother stares pensively out the window.

"Beatrice, Tris, why don't we take a walk?"

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The night air is chilly, but in a pleasant, relieving type of way. My favorite grey woolen scarf is pulled loosely around my neck, and a pair of my mom's gloves are on my hands. We are walking silently down the dimly lit street, towards the park. Nervousness is creeping up inside me. Why are we out here?

We finally stop at a bridge in the middle of the park. The moonlight casts an eerie glow on the fog wafting up from the stream like steam from a coffee mug.

"Tris," my mother breathes, "I don't want you to be worried, just listen to what I have to say. Then you can ignore it, or do whatever you want with this information, but I want you to know that I'm telling you this because I trust you and think that you can handle it."

Already, questions are swirling around my head, mostly some variation of 'what the hell?' but I hold my tongue. She has my attention, if that's what she was going for.

"Jeanine Matthews is…well, how about he start with this: Do you know what your father does for his job?"

"Yeah, he works with other politicians solving issues, and stuff." This has been what my father has said for every last one of my projects when I have to ask him about his job, or life, or anything."

"That's technically correct, but do you know what he focuses on in specific?" She presses.

I think about it. As much as his work is a part of him, my father never really told me exactly what he does. I shake my head.

My mother nods. "Well, he is part of a team that focuses on corruption and terror inside the country. Recently, your father stumbled upon some evidence that hinted at Erudite Laboratory's involvement in a scheme with terrorists. It was something big. Maybe even bigger than 9/11, that, if it worked, could wreak havoc on the lives of Americans. He started to look into it, but Jeanine got wind of what was happening, and immediately got defensive, and shut them out. Your father was trying to contact some officials last night to take her down, but they didn't have enough evidence. And now they can't look into it because she is not cooperating, and the other government officials don't have enough reason to be suspicious."

I'm sure that my mother could hear a clicking noise in my brain as I put two and two together. "So that's why she doesn't like me or the Abnegation, because politicians were meddling in her business?"

"Yes, but that's not why I brought you out here."

Okay, now I'm passed confused, "What? Then-? What do you-? Why?" I stutter.

My mother takes a deep breath. Uncertainty flickers in her eyes for just one moment. "Tris, honey, I don't want to make you do this, but we don't have any other choice. I need you to get in the middle of this."

I'm not sure what my mother was expecting, but I'm sure it was not what I do next. A smile, large and, frankly, a little insane, creeps across my face. I can't hide the excitement that the challenge, the danger, and the promise of adventure bring to me. "How do I start?"

My mother looks a little taken aback by my enthusiasm, but recovers gracefully, "You really are Dauntless, aren't you?"

I tilt my chin up. "Yeah, yeah I am."

She nods. "Good. We are going to need someone who isn't afraid. Of anything."

I gulp, but say "What are you going to need me to do?"

"Just find some incriminating evidence of Jeanine's interactions with terrorist groups."

"Like what?"

"I don't know… a recording of a phone call, a letter, maybe a order form, or a photo? Anything that can be used against her in a court of law."

I shake my head. Why does she think I can do this? It was her and my father that raised me to be the quiet, polite child that I am now, or was up until a few weeks ago. "Why me?" I ask. "You can have anyone in the world do this, so why choose me?"

My mother smiles, like she was looking forward to answering this question. "Because I know you can. You are close to her everyday, she wouldn't necessarily suspect anything if you, a Dauntless troublemaker, was roaming around the halls, and you have the skills to do this, I know you do. You are diplomatic, smart, and brave. If you can't do it, no one can."

Her faith in me is inspiring. I can't believe that looks at me in this way. I feel like I'm glowing.

We had started walking back, and we have now reached the front step of our home. The car is back, which is a good sign, because my father has recovered, but also a bad one, because that means that I have to deal with him. I reach for the door knob.

"Wait, Beatrice," My mother calls. I take my hand off of the knob and turn back to face her. She looks me in eye and says, "No one can know about this."

Reluctantly, I nod. I know why, we can't have America panicking about a possible terrorist attack, Jeanine figuring out our plan, or Father getting fired. But still, its so freaking cool that I'm like a detective or something. I wonder what Four would think….

**A/N: Another boringish chapter, but I swear its relevant. Just chugging the plot along, We'll get there eventually :)**


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Tris

It's almost a relief to be back at the Dauntless dormitory. The cheerful yelps and excited shouts are the antithesis of the sounds at home this weekend, which I would like to put behind me. The rest of my little vacation at home was uncomfortable, to say the least. Icy cold disapproval rolled off my father in waves, as potent as the guilt radiating from my mother. Caleb and I could do nothing more than sit in ashamed silence until we boarded the plane this constant chaos here is actually refreshing and helps me get the nagging weight of lying to my brother off of my back.

"Tris!" I search for my caller. "There you are," Christina pants. "I just got a message from Four. He wants to get a quick lesson in tonight. Supposed to meet him in the usual classroom."

"Okay," I had been looking for Four since I got here, discreetly of course. I try to hide my excitement and push butterflies out of my belly. "Um, should we find Will and Al then head there?"

At the mention of Will, Christina perks up. "Totally. I'll text him to see where they are."

Within minutes, we've located Will and Al and moved into the classroom. Four is standing in the front of the room. His back is to us, and he is scribbling on the chalkboard.

"Sit," He orders. He still hasn't turned around.

We all take seats in the back. Myra and Edward are the only other two here, so there are still quite a few seats together. I try to position myself so that I am as far as possible from Al.

Four steps back from his work on the chalkboard. He raises up to his full height, craning to see the top of the board. He turns around for the first time, and glances at the clock. I try to catch his attention by staring intently at the side of his face. His eyes sweep the room. When his eyes meet mine, I feel a jolt go through me, but he doesn't show any signs that he even remembers me, he just continues his detached survey.

"Who are we missing?" He barks.

"Peter, Molly, and Drew," Will answers.

"The retards," Christina blurts out.

Four lets out a very un-Four snort. I am still expecting him to turn around and give me a knowing smile or something of the sort.

Peter, Drew and Molly stumble in, roaring with obnoxious laughter. Their eyes have a glazed over look, and they are leaning on each other for support.

"You're late. And intoxicated." Four accuses.

"Intoxshicated?" Drew slurs, "Why would ya think dat?" He squeezes in his denial between hiccups.

"I could get you in major trouble for this," Four warns, "But I'm not going to. I've got better plans instead." A menacing smile dances on his face. I've never seen Four seem so deadly. Even at our training session he seemed controlled, at least. But now, his hatred for Peter seems to be clouding his judgement.

Four unbuttons his black button down shirt, revealing his rippling physique. His soft, golden skin is stretched tightly against his muscles, as if it is a size too small for him. A sliver of his boxer briefs are visible above the waistband of his dark jeans. Any thought of stopping his planned punishment for Peter and his clique dissipates into incoherent fragments.

"In the ring. All of you." He commands. Peter scrambles into the ring, followed by Drew, then Molly, who seems to be the most unsteady on her feet. Four strolls up to the edge of the ring. "This is how this is going to work. Edward is going to put 2 minutes on the timer. Then, I am going to beat the crap out of you losers. If you concede before 2 minutes, you can say goodbye to your chances of being a part of Dauntless. Okay?"

Edward runs over to the timer, and puts 2 minutes on the clock.

"Ready? Set? Go." Edward calls.

The timer starts, and immediately, a flurry of strikes are aimed at Four. He side steps them all, easily. He has that look of Dauntlessness in his eyes, the same look I've seen in Max and felt in myself. Peter, on the other hand, looks terrified. His first charge had failed, and left him wide open. Four pivots and aims a kick straight at Peter's ass. Peter loses his balance and ends up lying facedown on the mat. Just as Four was about to deliver a quick kick to his head, probably knocking him unconscious, Drew flings himself on Four's back, knocking both of them to the ground. Molly runs over to where Drew is pinned under Four's body, and tries to land a series of flailing strikes on Four. They seem to do very little. Four just rises to his knees, and jabs his knuckles into a soft spot under her ribs. She crumples, and Four rises triumphantly.

He looks so cold. His cobalt blue eyes glint with the promise cruelty. I am suddenly reminded of Eric on the first day. A shudder runs through me. Is Four really any better than him?

Four is now back on top of Drew. He is punching and punching and punching. There is still a minute left on the clock. Drew looks like he is fading, but Four doesn't show any signs of stopping. Peter is struggling to rise to his feet, and Molly is still crumpled on the ground. It's a pitiful sight. I don't think I can take it anymore.

"Stop! Four, stop!" I cry.

His head immediately whips up. The cold look in his eyes has already melted into something that I've never seen in him. It's fear. He looks, horrified, at the blood coating his knuckles, Drew's blood.

"Edward, cut the timer." He croaks. Shaking, he rises to his feet. "I have to... uh, go do something. Just sit tight for, like a minute or two." He dizzily shuffles to the door.

Christina looks as confused as me. The whole class is just staring, dazed at the pitiful sight that is Peter, Molly and Drew. I pause for a moment, then turn and sprint towards the exit. I have to find Four. I see a tall, athletic figure gliding to the end of the hall, it could be Four. I take off after him. I finally reach him at the end of the hallway.

"Four, wait." I plead.

He turns, surprised. "Tris?" He wheezes.

"What was that?" I try to keep my voice even, but it kind of breaks towards the end.

"I just lost it." He admits. "I- I don't know. They- I think they deserved it, but I-" He can't finish, and slides to the ground. "I'm sorry."

Wow. He's unraveling right here, in front of me. It's like we've switched places.

"Four, it's okay." I bend down to hold his face in my hands.

"No, no it's not." He shakes me off. "Tris." Pain flashes across his face. "I'm not good, I don't deserve this, anything."

What does he mean? He is the most interesting person I've ever met, a great teacher, and a great friend... if that's what were are- friends. How could he not know that?

"I don't believe that." I wrap my arms around him again.

I bury my head in his shoulder. "You shouldn't either."

He shakes his head, but lets me stay with my face in the crook of his neck."You don't even know me."

"I would like to," I admit. I'm glad it's dark enough that he can't see me blush.

He swallows, and places his lips on the top of my head. The nerve endings on my forehead where his lips touch explode. "I would like you to, too." He mumbles.

I still don't understand him. He's beautiful, brave, dangerous, everything that I wish I was, but he's still a mystery. One that I intend to solve.

**A/N: Want some more Fourtris? Leave a review! Want some more action? You can leave a review for that, too! Like character development? Leave a review and I'll put some more of that in there! Whatever y'all are up for, I'll try to add!**


	18. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Tris

Time passes differently when I'm with Four. I was sure that when we returned, people would be buzzing with the reason for our absence, that hours had passed, but that was not the case. The only difference was that Peter, Molly, and Drew had all crawled out of the ring, and are being tended to by Will and Myra. Four struts in, all evidence of his uncertainty gone. He clears his throat.

"Let that be a warning to all of you who think that showing up to my class late or drunk is a good idea."

The class just continues to stare, horrified.

"Now, to our lesson. You may all take your seats."

Those of us not injured rush over to our seats. His intense gaze is the whip that drives us to his every bidding. Gone is the uncontrolled, vulnerable Four, and back is the steely, intimidating figure we all know. I check the clock. It's still only 4 o'clock. We've still got daylight to burn.

"On this board are the instructions for today. We are going to share our deepest and darkest fears. Don't worry, you don't have to stand up in front of the class and spill your guts, but I'm going to have you right them down. Most of you should have 10-15 fears, and they should be things that don't just make you nervous, they should be the things that truly make you paralyzed with fear. Here, I'll hand out the paper."

He circles the room, handing out sheets of lined paper. He pauses just for a very short moment next to me.

"Okay," Four calls the attention back to him, "You may begin, but keep in mind that I can tell if these are your real fears, and if you write down any horse shit, you will be punished, possibly in a similar way to Peter, Drew, and Molly. Clear?"

I don't think he is serious, but if I had not seen him in the hall, I wouldn't have doubted him for a moment. We all begin furiously scribbling down our fears.

I look at my list:

1. Drowning  
2. Being powerless  
3. Being kidnapped  
4. Being burned alive  
5. Disappointing my family

There's another one I want to put on here, but I know Four will be looking at this.

I decide to raise my hand. "Four? What happens if you don't have more than 10?"

He raises his eyebrows and strolls over. "It's possible, but not that likely," He parks himself in front of my desk and stares intently in to my eyes. My heart flutters.

"I mean, It wouldn't surprise me if _you _didn't have 10, but it's easier if you have more." He mumbles.

"Easier?" I am beyond puzzled.

"Yes, easier," Unfortunately for me, that's all he elaborates on the importance of having more fears. "You sure you're not missing a little one?" He presses.

"No," I lie. I'm missing a big one.

His eyes narrow. "You're lying."

I'm about to protest, but my words catch in my throat. I don't really want to lie to him, but I don't want him to know this about me. Not yet, anyways.

He catches my hesitation, and trades his clear, sharp instructor voice for a softer tone, "It will be better for you if you put all of them down. Trust me." He rips his eyes away from me and circles back to the front of the class.

I hesitate for another moment, but finally write:

6. Intimacy

I figured it was vague enough. It could mean anything, really. But I know what it means, not just being close, but being physically close, like (how can I put this delicately) intercourse. Satisfied, I fold my paper in half and drop it on the pile that had been forming on a chair by the ring.

"Once you're done, you can head back to your dorms, if you want," Four announces.

Just so that I wouldn't look weird sitting there with out a paper, I collect my stuff and head towards the door.

I don't want to sit in a quiet dormitory with a pissed off Peter until Christina and Will finish, so I decide to take a little tour of the whole Dauntless compound. I start with the kitchen. It is hot, sticky, and smelly, not a place you would want to spend a considerable amount of time in. I just grab a slice of chocolate cake from the fridge and creep out into the nearest hallways. I think this is the 'Dauntless born' freshmen hallway. It looks almost identical to ours, except that there are more doors, because they are already members and get more private bunks. Totally unfair, but what am I going to do about it.

Just as I am passing two giggling students, one a tall, handsome boy, and the other a short, mean-looking girl with a shaved head, a scream rings throughout the hallway.

"Help!" The shrill cry echoes in the empty corridor. I think it is coming from the door to my right, next to the giggling students, both of which look frozen in confusion and panic. I am picturing a little girl like myself being attacked by a brute like Peter. This is my chance to do what Al should've done for me. I push aside the two Dauntless born blocking the exit and grab the doorknob. I twist the cold metal and yank the door open wide. I try to quickly assess my surroundings. It looks like any other freshman bunk, with two bunk beds pressed against each wall and a small space in the middle. In this space, a cute, but muscular brunette is staring, shocked, at me.

As I whip my head around to look for the assailant, something wet and red hits my face. I can't see. The liquid is running into my eyes. I try to wipe at it, to clear my vision, but, suddenly, I feel a something hard and cold drop heavily onto my head, and then roll to the floor with a resounding _clang. _I fall to the ground, easily incapacitated.

_ Wow, what a rescue, _I think to myself. Not only did I not do anything to help this girl, but now I'm going to get myself in trouble, as well. I just hope that the two Dauntless borns outside have gotten their heads out of their asses and come to help.

I wait for another blow, or the sound of a struggle, but hear nothing but a surprised squeak from inside the bunk room and a stifled giggle from out in the hall.

"Omigosh," A voice squeals. "Are you okay? I am soooo sorry."

"What?" I grumble. I sit up and try to wipe the remaining red liquid out of my face. A bit of it had gotten into my mouth, and I was now sputtering, trying to get the nasty taste out.

A low, hearty laugh rumbles from outside of the room, "You would've gotten us, too, Marlene, if this poor girl hadn't hopped in the way of your shenanigans," He booms. With my eyesight now almost recovered, I can see that this is the same boy from out in the hallway. "I'm Uriah," He holds out a hand to help me up. He has a wide, almost neon white smile, and a handsome face.

"Tris," I say taking his hand, "And I'm not some poor little girl," I assert, "I was the only one with enough balls to get in there, while both of you were sitting out there with your thumbs up your asses."

An amused smile crosses his face, "Feisty. I like you," He says with a chuckle.

The brunette steps up, with her hand outstretched in greeting, "I'm Marlene," She says. She is very pretty. She has deep brown eyes, a small but muscular build, and has several piercing, but not gross ones; these piercing are the type that are actually tasteful and make her look even prettier. I grab her hand and shake it awkwardly. I'm still covered in red goop, and I don't want to get her soaked, too.

"What _is _this?" I ask.

"Oh, just red paint. Don't worry, it comes out of hair and clothes real easily... I think."

Oh, I get it now. Her whole plan clicks in my head. What she meant to do was balance the can of paint so that when Uriah and that other girl, who still hasn't introduced herself, run in, _they _would get soaked. Unfortunately for her, me and my heroic charge ruined her prank.

"Sorry for, uh, ruining your prank," I mumble slowly.

"That's okay," She replies brightly. "I still got to see someone get drenched."

At first my laugh is fake, a courtesy, but at some point, I'm not sure when, I realize the hilarity of it all and just can't stop laughing. Soon, everyone has joined in and we are just cackling like idiots together.

"Well, I think the least we can do is offer you the use of our shower, a change of clothes, and maybe to hang out later?" Marlene offers.

"Sounds like a deal to me." I don't want to have to walk all the way through the Dauntless compound dripping red paint.

She points me to the restroom and has the other girl, whose name I learn to be Lynn, lend me a change of clothes. I don't get all of the paint off, and the clothes are a good 3 or 4 sizes too big, but I feel much better once I am cleaned up. I listen to their banter all the way to the cafeteria, and wave Al, Will and Christina over. We explain the Catastrophe, as Uriah had begun to call it, and by the end of the story, we are all doubled over in laughter again.

Sitting in bed, having finally retired I realize again how much I love the freedom and adventure that comes with being Dauntless. I love the people, the way of life, the excitement, the opportunity. I love my life, just being alive. Isn't that all you can ever ask for? To be alive and happy?

**A/N: I want to thank you guys for giving me an excuse to do nothing today more than chill in my room, wrapped in a snuggie, watch the rain fall, listen to Jack Johnson, and write. Can you imagine a better day to be alive? Tris is right, be happy to be alive while you still have the chance!**


	19. Chapter 18

**A/N: Be aware. FourTris complication ahead. Prepare yourself emotionally. ****;D**

Chapter 18

Tris

Ugh. It's too early. I'm not sure why I woke up, but I'm not going to stay up long enough to find out. The dormitory is still quiet and dark, I must have atleast another hour to sleep. I roll over, wrapping the covers around me even farther. To my surprise, a pair of gorgeous dark blue eyes are inches from my face.

"Four?" I jolt up, almost slamming our foreheads together, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He takes a step back, and stretches. "We're training."

I groan. "What time is it?"

He squints at his watch. "5ish."

"Five? In the morning?" I ask, incredulous.

"Yup." He looks a little smug, probably loving my reaction. "Now get dressed. And into something warm."

"Why?" I sit stubbornly, crossing my arms.

"Because I said so." An edge of authority was creeping into his voice now.

I guess that was enough for me. I roll out of my warm cocoon. I shoo him out of the room with a groan and an annoyed hand gesture. I pull out a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt. I slip into the soft, baggy clothes and pull on my sneakers. Four is still waiting by the door when I return. I'm suddenly hyperaware of my gross appearance. Too late now.

He leads me up through the tunnels that make up the Dauntless dormitories, and out into the early morning. Out by the field, the air is brittle and smells of decaying leaves, like Autumn is around the corner.

"Are you going to tell me what we're doing?" I pout.

"We are going to be taking a run."

"At 5 in the morning?"

He just nods once. "Running is a great way to get in better shape. It will increase your endurance, your cardiovascular health, and your leg strength. All of these will help your fighting. In fact, I was planning on doing this on Saturday morning, but you left before I could get you out here." A sour look crosses his face, but is replaced quickly by a bright smile as he says, "But I got you here now."

I try to shake my sleepiness off.

"Try to keep up!" Four calls over his shoulder, taking off across the field. A grin spreads across his face. He kicks up dirt as he goes, so that a thick trail of dust is left to settle behind him. Then I realize that I should probably be following and I take off. By the time he's gotten to the edge of the forest, I've almost caught up. He must have heard me come up from behind, because just as I'm about to reach him, he speeds up, and I'm left in his dust once again.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watch the forest blur by. At this point in the morning, it's still just black silhouettes on a faded purplish background. A mist hangs low to the ground, in the dark shrubbery. The forest itself seems to stretch infinitely out in every direction and it is swallowing us whole. My feet slap squishy moss and damp leaves. I'm struggling to breathe, and my legs burn, but I'm having a great time. The running is therapeutic. As I run, I leave my thoughts and problems behind and just feel what is here now.

Four is still ahead of me by several yards.. I don't think I have enough left in me to catch him, so I just decide to follow. Following isn't that bad. After what feels like forever, he finally stops. The change in speed is so abrupt that I blow past him, and I have to double back.

Four is leaning against a massive oak tree, the only thing at the top of this hill. His face is split open in a relaxed grin. "How'd you like that?" He asks mischievously.

"I liked it a lot, actually," I admitted.

He considers this for a moment, then nods to the tree. "Come over here. I've got something to show you."

I walk stiffly back to the tree. I try to slow my breathing, and not pass out by watching my own feet shuffle through the dewy grass. When I look up, Four is gone.

"Four?" I call.

He chuckles. "Look up."

I raise my chin and scan the treetops. Four is already halfway up the giant oak staring down at me. I just gape.

"You coming up?" He teases.

I blush, feeling stupid and self conscious. I grab a handful of tree bark and start wiggling up the tree. I reach him, but keep going.

"Uh, Tris?" He hollers, "You passed me."

I settle myself in a comfy, thick branch. "You coming up?" I mock him.

Something wavers across his face, I don't understand it, but he eventually makes up his mind and starts to make his way up the rest of the tree. He pulls himself up to my branch and grips the branch with enough force that his knuckles turn white. He gulps.

"This is what I wanted to show you," He whispers, pointing at the surrounding hills.

It's the second most beautiful thing I've ever seen, only beaten out by Four's eyes. The black hills roll out like velvet sheets. A sharp orange line cuts across the east horizon, separating the dusty purple sky from the pitch black of the forest. I can see our school from here. It looks like a toy set, like the ones I used to play with when I was a child.

"Wow," Is all I say. It's all I can say.

"Yeah," He agrees proudly.

We watch the sun come up for a while. It was amazing to watch the transformation from the purples and blacks to golden yellows, crisp greens and warm browns. It changed from one world to another totally different world. I'm sure that if I looked a little closer, I could find even more little worlds inside this one.

"Tris?" Four mumbles.

"Yea?"

"Thanks for coming here, I know its early, but it was real nice of you to go along with it."

"I wouldn't have missed it for the world." I reassured him.

He smiled. "You're a real good friend," He says, wrapping his arm around me. It's a nice gesture, but all I hear is 'friend' echoing around my head like a gunshot in the empty woods. Friends. It was stupid of me to get my hopes up past friends. To be honest, I hadn't even realized that I was hoping for more until that word came crashing down upon me, crushing me like a massive weight on my chest.

Why would he even like me in the first place? I'm tiny, weak, not pretty, and not very Dauntless. It was silly to entertain this silly notion, even subconsciously. It's my own fault, anyways. And now I'm stuck in the friendzone.

The sun's full glow reminds me of the one thing I wish would never come. The day. Apparently, Four seems to have the same thought. He sighs deeply, then says, "I suppose we should go now."

"I suppose." I half agree.

He starts down the tree. I don't want to leave. There's something so unbelievable about this tree, almost dreamlike. I know it's crazy, but I think that if I leave, I'll never be able to find it again.

I don't want to lose our little secret.

**A/N: I think thats enough for one weekend, but I hope to update again soon. Maybe Tuesday or Wednesday? **


	20. Chapter 16 (Four's POV)

Chapter 16

Four

All I can do to keep from pacing the room is to furiously scribble down all of the information in my lesson plan. It's an important part of Dauntless initiation, but they will have no idea until I explain it to them in a couple of distraction of this important task still doesn't totally take my mind off of Tris.

There's still a hollow pit in my stomach from Saturday morning. I remember very clearly the sinking sensation that I felt when I bounced over to the initiate's dorm room and found that she was missing. That she had left without saying goodbye. I didn't see the sunrise that day, like I usually do. I just moped around the Dauntless area. I wasn't going to head home like the rest of the students. Why would I? To get beat another fucking time? Yeah, right. So basically, that weekend sucked. I was lonely and without distraction, without Tris.

To be honest-which I'm not very good at being-I'm scared. Since as long as I can remember, I've been alone in my bubble. No one can hurt me inside my bubble, and I can't hurt anyone else. It's a lonely life, but a safe one. Now, Tris has a power over me, and she doesn't even know. She doesn't know that I'm not good, either. I can't tell you whether I want her to get closer to me, or if I want to her to just leave now before she breaks that bubble completely, and can hurt me more than she can now.

I am so immersed in my thoughts that I hadn't even noticed that the classroom had begun to fill up. Tris is standing in the back with her friends. I'm sure she doesn't want them to know about us, I'm just the loser who's teaching her. The good for nothing son, the good for nothing student, the good for nothing friend…or whatever we are.

"Sit." I command.

I try to focus on the board that I'm supposed to be writing, but I just feel a pull in my stomach. I want to look at her so bad._ Fine_, I tell myself, _one look_. I try to make it nonchalant, like I'm just looking at the clock, but when her eyes meet mine, a sickening jolt shudders through me, and I have to rip my eyes off of her. I try to distract from my mistake by talking, using the voice that usually scares people off, "Who are we missing?" I ask.

"Peter, Molly and Drew," Will immediately pipes up. He would've fit in well in Erudite.

"The retards," Christina amends.

I try to cover a laugh, but it just ends up in a snort. Christina's smart mouth is going to get her in trouble.

A loud bang alerts me of the entrance of the rest. Stumbling in through the door, roaring in loud, angry laughter is Molly, Drew, and Peter. They are drunk. Trust me, I know the signs. The uncertainty in their steps, the glazed look in their eyes, the angry rumble in their laughter. It all transports me back into dark childhood memories. My father stumbled in the same way, his eyes were always glazed in the same way, just lightly out of focus, but still mean and dark. He never laughed, just yelled, but the tone was the same: deep and furious. Yes, they were definitely drunk. Drunk in the way that all bullies get drunk. They are mean drunk.

"You're late. And drunk." I try to keep the fear in my voice hidden under stony accusation. It's too much like home.

Drew mumbles a weak denial. I can smell the liquor on their breath from here. But, I realize, I can take them. I have no reason to be scared. They're not my bullies, their Tris'. And That gets me, the picture of Tris overpowered in the same way that I once was. Reg rage clouds my vision and a metallic taste fills my mouth. "I could get you in major trouble for this," I growl, "But I'm not going to. I've got better plans instead."

I work the buttons on my black button down. It's an intimidation tactic, and based on their reactions, it worked. They look scared. "In the ring. All of you." I bark. I walk up to the ring, "This is how this is going to work. Edward is going to put 2 minutes on the timer. Then, I am going to beat the crap out of you losers. If you concede before 2 minutes, you can say goodbye to your chances of being a part of Dauntless. Okay?" I'm just blowing smoke. I can't get them kicked out: I don't have any real power, but they don't know that.

2 minutes are set, and Edward, I think, calls out 'go'. Right off the bat, I'm rushed. I step to the side and let their sloppy swings carry them through. I turn and slam my foot straight into Peter's fat rear end. He falls on his face, not that I have time to gloat, 'cuz Drew charges me as soon as he regains his balance. Somehow, me manages to use his weight to bring me down to the matt with him. I scramble to my feet and on to him. His attempt to save Peter ended up getting him in more trouble than that prick is worth. Adrenaline, blood lust, and malice flow through me. I feel my power flowing through my fingertips. I can make him do whatever I want. I pull my arm back to aim a strike at him, but I'm interrupted by a very unstable Molly, who is flailing her arms in a sad attempt to dismount me. I change my target and slam my fist into her fleshy abdomen. Her breath rushes out in a gush, and she crumples to the ground. Then, I turn my attention back to Drew. I hit him. In the face. Again. And Again. And Again. I think I hear cracks. I think I see blood. Then, a cry yanks me from my vicious haze.

"Stop! Four, stop!" The voice is so clear and so full of beauty that I know it must be Tris'. I leap back, suddenly aware of what I have done. Oh no, Oh God no. In my attempt to stop the bullies, I have become one. The blood on my fist glints in the same way that my blood glints on my fathers fist. No matter how hard I try to get away, I know I can't because part of me is him. I think I''m going to throw up.

"Edward, cut the timer. I have to... uh, go do something. Just sit tight for, like a minute or two, I say. I meant for it to come out strong, but it is barely a whisper.

I stagger out into the hallway. My head is reeling, and my whole body feels cold as ice. I almost don't hear the footsteps behind me.

"Four, wait." Tris begs. I know it's her without even having to turn around. I knew it was her without even having to hear her voice.

"Tris?" What could she want? She was horrified of me just moments ago, everyone was.

"What was that?" She demands. Her voice is mainly steady, but eyes are worried._ She's scared of me_, I think.

"I just lost it." I whimper. I feel pitiful, like a small child. "I- I don't know. They- I think they deserved it, but I-" I don't have a real excuse. "I'm sorry." Is the only thing I say. I try to press back tears. I haven't cried in years. In front of Tris is not the best way to start back up. So I try to toughen up and push them back.

I expect Tris to be gone when I open my eyes, but she's not. In fact, she is much closer than before. Her hands reach up to hold my face. The gesture is tender, kind, and so much more than a wretched person like me deserves.

"Four, it's okay." She croons. As she says it, a seed of doubt is planted in me, telling me that maybe it _is _okay.

"No, no it's not." I remember. I shake her off. She doesn't deserve to be wrapped up in this. "Tris. I'm not good, I don't deserve this, anything." I gulp. I know I shouldn't have her, but I want her. I want her to say 'no' and tell me that everything is okay, but at the same time, I want her to walk away right now. It would be better for her.

"I don't believe that." She whispers after a moment. My heart soars, but my conscious cringes. I tell my conscious to shut up. She wraps her arms around me pull me closer to her. She smells clean, not fruity or "girly" but just clean, pure. She buries her head in my shoulder. Her lips tickle my bare skin when she mumbles, "You shouldn't either." A warm, tingly feeling spreads through my body, starting at my shoulder and ending at my fingertips and toes.

My conscious, my stupid, stupid conscious steps up, "You don't even know me." I protest automatically.

I expect her to be put off, but she's not, of course; she's Tris.

"I would like to," She blushes softly. I can't see it, but I can feel the warmth build up next to my shoulder.

I catch myself off guard. I press my lips softly to the top of her head. "I would like to, too."

_What am I doing? Where can this possibly go? How should I stop myself?_ These are the questions I should be asking. Instead I ask:_ How can I get her to know me? _

**A/N: I want to apologize to everyone. Y'all have been so supportive, and in return I just keep missing deadlines and leading you on. I feel awful about it. I am continuing to try to fit writing time into my impossible schedule, but its tough. I want to thank you for your patience. **


	21. Chapter 19

**A/N: I would love to continue with the Four POV, but I suppose I should push the plot forward, too. You guys are lucky this weekend- I am quite sick and very tired. You can expect several chapters by Monday morning. **

Chapter 19

Tris

The day drags by. I can do little more than keep myself contained and avoid Christina's prying, concerned questions. I don't really feel like putting up with it right now. Ms. Matthews is standing up in the front lecturing us on something that I'll never have to know. It's not like I'm going to get a good grade anyways. I'd almost forgotten about my little project, I had been so focused on Four. Now that there's not anything to focus on between us, my mind has room for this task, even if it is a little bitter right now.

While the rest of the class scribbles down notes, I scan the classroom. I doubt she's stupid enough to keep any evidence in here, I mean, she's supposed to be the smartest woman on Earth, but it's worth a shot. On the walls, there's nothing but motivational posters, the cheesy kind that kids have a good time defacing, and the shelves are filled with just normal equipment; vials, beakers, scales, and other scientific tools. There's nothing out of the ordinary. Even on her desk, there's just an apple, a desktop computer, her cell phone, and some pencils.

Now, if I had some technological skills, I could maybe find a way to see what's in her computer without having to take the entire thing, but unfortunately, I don't. Will might have the skills to do that, but I don't think I can trust him, like that. We're not as good..._friends..._ as Four and I are, and I can't even tell him.

I wonder about her phone, though. Maybe I could create some sort of distraction, and then nab it? Ha, like I'd be brave enough to steal my principal's phone. The absurdity almost sends me into hysterics. I manage to turn it into a single snort. Still, the whole class turns to look at me. Ms. Matthews turns her icy glare at me. It cuts into me, a steel knife shredding my brief laughter into pieces.

"Is something funny about my teachings?" She snaps.

"No, I actually find you the opposite of funny" I reply coolly. I'm surprised by my own confidence. I think it's spurred on by my anger, or maybe my nervousness.

"Would you mind staying after class again, Beatrice?" She says my name like it's a weapon. She knows that I go by Tris, but she wants to see me hurt. I scoff. I know my own friggin' name, she can't hurt me with it.

"Sure, Ms. M." I agree. A small smile plays on my lips. I'm sure everyone else thinks I'm crazy. They can think what they want.

The rest of the class crawls by, just like the rest of my day had. At the end, I stroll up to Ms. Matthew's desk. I give Christina a small nod on the way up. I don't want her to wait up for me. She recognizes the gesture with a small, worried nod of her own.

"Beatrice, I'm a little worried about you," She smiles sweetly, but her teeth glisten like knives.

"Why would that be?" I ask gruffly.

"First of all, you happen to be failing this class," I don't comment on that. "And second of all, I've heard that your family life is a bit tough."

Now I'm actually interested. "What do you mean?" I shoot.

"Well, there are some rumors spreading that your father has a hard time dealing with the stress of his job, and tends to take it out on his wife and children... physically."

Anger bubbles under the surface of my skin. I want to reach across and slap her.

"There has been no evidence of his mistreatment of his children yet, but they got a tip from someone, and they have been looking into it. And not just into your father, but into a series of other politicians as well." She assures me.

"I wonder who started such a rumor." I mutter under my breath.

At that moment, her phone buzzed. A text message pops up on the screen. I reach for it, instinctively. Realizing the opportunity that I had, I grazed over the screen as I handed the phone to her.

_ Tomorrow during lunch hour behind the field_? The message read.

The contact didn't have a name. It was just a number, too long to have memorized in my brief glance.

Ms. Matthews reads the message, then returns her focus to me. "You may go," Her chilly voice rings through the silent room with a bleak finality. I gather my bag and storm out.

Nothing in my future is certain. I don't know what will happen to my dad. He has made a formidable enemy in Jeanine Matthews. I don't know what will happen between me and Four. I don't know if anything will happen. And most of all, I don't know what will happen to me. I don't know if I'll make it into Dauntless, or if I'll stop Jeanine or if I'll even make it out of this year alive.

I do know one thing, though. I've got a date tomorrow at lunch hour behind the fields.


	22. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Tris

They look so cute together.

It makes me a little sick.

I keep imagining Four holding me that way, in front of everyone. I know it's silly, but I can't help myself. I plop down on the floor next to Christina's bunk, and try to not meet her eyes. She was giggling at some probably lame joke that Will had made, twirling her hair around her finger. _Ugh, why don't they just get together? _I want to shout, but I don't.

"Hey," I mumble.

"Hey, Tris!" Her voice is much too bright for my current mood, "How are you?"

"Been better. Been worse." I grumble in monotone.

She looks a little worried. I would be if I were her. I even sounded depressed to myself. There's nothing to be depressed about, I try to remind myself.

"Will, would you mind grabbing some coffee from the dining hall?" It the most subtle I think she's ever been. She shifts off of him, so that he's free to go.

"Sure," He agrees quickly. He scurries out of the room, leaving me and Christina alone.

"Now, what's really up?" She demands.

I shake my head and slowly rise to join her sitting on the bunk. What can I tell her? All of my problems are secrets. I definitely can't tell her about Ms. Matthews. I'm not sure what I _can _say about Four. I decide to focus on my Dauntless doubts.

"I don't think I belong here," I finally admit.

"What do you mean?" She seems perplexed.

"I mean that I don't think I am Dauntless material," I say without emotion.

Christina pops up immediately, almost slamming her head into the bunk above her. "Not Dauntless material?" She almost shouts, incredulous. "What about when you looked Ms. Matthews straight in the eye today and talked back to her? What about when you jumped first? What about when you pulled me out of that train?" She is breathing heavily, more upset than I thought she would've been. "You are the most Dauntless person I know."

"I'm so weak, though. I can't beat Molly, I can't beat Peter, and there's no way that I'll make it through this 'initiation' crap." It feels better just getting my doubts out in the open.

"Strength isn't what makes you Dauntless, Tris. Now come on, we're going to cheer you up."

"We?" I don't really feel like hanging around lovey dovey Will and Christina, with Al awkwardly not making conversation.

"Yeah, Uriah's brother is planning a party for this weekend, and we are going to help."

I sigh, relieved. Uriah, Marlene, and Lynn are fun. "Okay," I agree.

* * *

The afternoon had been substanially less crappy than my morning. I beat Myra in our afternoon Dauntless class, and Zeke and Uriah's antics during lunch had lifted my mood.

On my way out of the class, Four grabs my arm. The butterflies that flutter in my stomach when he touches me piss me off. Just friends, I chide myself.

"Where do you think you're going?" He questions.

"Uh, back to bed," I respond rather coldly.

He appears hurt by my biting words. "No training today?"

"I don't know... I have homework, and my friends are going to be wondering where I am..." I trail off, finishing the sentence in my head: And I don't really want to be around you right now, 'friend'.

"Tris," He pleads, "You know that you have to fight Peter at one point. I have put it off for as long as I could, but the end of this...unit is coming up and he's one of the people you haven't fought yet. We need to train."

He's right. I looked good enough today that fighting almost everyone else would be fine, but Peter is big, wild, and has it out for me.

"Fine," I groan.

His face splits into a grin, "Awesome. Great attitude, by the way," He tacks on at the end, his eyes twinkling mischievously. It makes my heart drop in a way that I find upsetting. Friends. Friends. Friends. Friends. I chant the word over and over in my head. It's still better than nothing.

For the next three hours, we go over some more intense moves. I learn complex take downs, advanced grappling skills, and he even teaches me some dirty tricks that I can use. Every time he touched me, though, I still felt a jolt of electricity go through me… It was painful, to be so close to him and know that I have no chance, but really enjoyable at the same time. These sessions always are.

"So how was that?" He asks, genuinely interested.

"I had a good time, like always, Four." I respond semi-pleasantly.

"You weren't too chatty today…" He trails off.

"Neither were you," I remind him.

"Yea, but I never am," He smiles warmly.

I shrug, and turn to leave. Four reaches out unexpectedly and grabs my wrist, pulling me back.

He juts his lip out in his sexy pout. "What's wrong Tris?" His eyes bore into mine, intense and deep as the ocean.

"N-nothing," I stammer, lost in his beauty. "Just, um, having a weird day, I guess."

"Well, my friend Zeke is throwing this big party this weekend," He shifts from foot to foot, looking more uncomfortable than I think I've ever seen him. "And I was wondering if you might be interested in going?" He's probably nervous that I'm going to get the wrong idea from this invitation. Little does he know it's too late for that.

"I actually heard about it. I'm kind of friends with Uriah, his little brother," I explain.

"Oh, your friends with Uriah?" He mumbles, looking a bit thrown.

"Yea, kinda."

Just a moment ago, he seemed happy and excited, but now he seems a little crestfallen, "Oh." Is all he says, looking down at the floor.

"So, I'll see you there still" I offer.

"Yeah, totally. I guess I'll see you tomorrow, too." He mumbles. His lips are pursed and his eyes are little unfocused, like he's lost in a daydream.

"Not bright and early?" I tease half heartedly.

"Only if you want."

I nod slowly. I'll have to think on that. "Well, good night Four."

"Night, Tris."

And I leave the room, wanting to get as far away from the awkwardness of tonight as possible. It was like all of those walls that I had begun to knock down between us have all been rebuilt by one stupid little word, friend.

**A/N: Sorry guys, I haven't been updating as much as I thought I would, or in the same quality I thought I would, but at least we are chugging forward. I still feel like a sack of shit, so I have been sleeping a lot more than what is probably necessary. I'm awake now, though (kinda) so I'm hoping for another update today.**


	23. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Tris

It shouldn't be a big deal whether or not I go on the run with Four this morning. At least it shouldn't have been eating me alive for the last 8 hours. It's now 5am and I'm sitting in bed. I could either roll back over and sleep for 2 more hours, or I can rip myself out of bed and go see Four. It's not a huge decision, but sometimes the little decisions are the hardest to make.

Eventually, I can't hold out anymore against the lure of seeing Four again. I get up and change into a black sweats and a fleece hoodie. I am almost expecting him to be waiting right outside of my room, but of course he's not. He is probably not even waiting for me at all. I try to shake Four out of my mind, I should be more excited about the run itself, or the view waiting for me. I shake my stiff limbs out on my way up to the fields. To my surprise, he is waiting at the edge of the forest, exactly where we entered the other day.

I speed up a bit, eager to start. "Hey," I call.

"Tris," He beams at me, "I didn't think you were going to come."

"I didn't think you were going to wait," I admit.

He chuckles. "Well, it was just in case. I wouldn't want you to get lost in the woods by yourself."

Most of the uneasiness from last night has evaporated. I start to think that maybe it was all in my head in the first place.

"Pfffft. You couldn't lose me in the in the woods if you tried," I grin cockily.

He clears his throat, "As your student teacher, it's my duty to make sure your safe," He mock salutes me.

I throw my head back and laugh. It feels nice. "We gonna run anytime soon?" I tease.

"Oh yeah, almost forgot." He frowns, then takes off, going from a stand still to a full on run in a mere moment.

I'm left in his wake again, but this time it doesn't take me as long to recover, and make up the lost time. I'm lost again in the sensations. I'm so glad I didn't miss this. I'm not as out of breath this time when we reach the tree. The sun is not yet in sight, and I can't tell if we are just earlier, or if clouds are blocking our view. We sit in our branch for a while, just enjoying each other's company. It has become apparent that we're not getting a special sun rise today. Instead, the sky has been replaced by a pale sheet of clouds.

"Mmmm. It's so pretty," Four whispers, "Don't ya think?"

I squint. On the surface, it looks like kind of a crappy day. Clouds are obstructing the sun, its much colder, so much so that we have to huddle to keep warm, and the forest looks pretty drab in the dim, dead light. "Uh, I guess," I shrug.

"You've got to look closer, Tris. That's what my mom always told me. She said that beauty is everywhere, as long as you look hard enough." His focus wavers, and he loses himself in thought.

I try to take his advice. I admire the soft shadows that the looming trees cast on the pale, frosted ground, the bone white sky, desolate but pure, and the outlines of school, which looks abandoned in this eerie light. It looks like a scene fit for a beautiful horror film. I shudder, but whisper, "You're right, Four."

He smiles a sad smile, then snuggles closer, wrapping his arm around me in a comforting gesture. I would've been content to stay that way forever, despite the cold.

"Your mother sounds smart," I tell him, "What is she like?"

"I wouldn't really know. She died when I was young. It was a horrible… accident." He keeps his focus on his hands, which are fumbling with a twig, bending it, then unbending it methodically.

"I'm sorry," I reply automatically. I think that's the appropriate response.

"It's fine. Not your fault." He says gruffly, then changes the topic. "Race you back?" He challenges.

"Okay. Ready, set, GO." I yell, already un-wedging myself from the comfy nook I has buried myself in. I wriggle down from our perch, and hit the ground with a solid thud. I don't land right, and end up crashing onto my ass. That's gonna leave a bruise. In the time I spend recovering, Four swings down from the tree. We are neck and neck on the way out of the clearing.

We are both in a full out sprint. I feel like I'm dying, but Four doesn't show any signs of fatigue. In fact, he's wearing an exalted smile, one the many expressions that make him look like a movie star. His chin is thrown up, his pearly whites are exposed, and his eyes are crinkled at the edges. I am so absorbed by him that I almost run into a tree. That jars my focus back to the present task.

I think I see the edge of the woods. If I can beat him here, in this last sprint, then I'll have the win. I kick it up into my final gear, and out of the corner of my eye see Four do the same. I'm barely ahead of him, but my lead seems to be growing. He must be tired. I burst out of the thick brush and into the open campus.

I let out a breathless cheer, then sink to my knees. Four is already standing behind me. He looks like he's not even out of breath.

"You went easy on me," I accused.

"I was trying to be a gentleman," He half whines, his dark eyebrows pushing together. "Do you need help up?" He offers me his hand.

I take it eagerly, and we walk arm in arm back to the Dauntless compound, laughing and talking about silly stuff. If this is what being friends with Four feels like, then maybe its not as bad as I thought it was going to be.

**A/N: Another short chapter.. but at least they're coming at you fast. Maybe one more? I'll see what I can do.**


	24. Chapter 22

**A/N: I'd like to thank all of you for your wonderful reviews. You guys make me smile. **

Chapter 22

Tris

I figured by noon, it would've warmed up, maybe into the low 60's. Boy, was I wrong. It is about 45 degrees, a record cold for the end of September. I'm shivering in my black shorts and t-shirt. Yet, I don't want to leave; I wouldn't want to miss this.

I tap my foot impatiently. Jeanine should be here soon with her guest. I peek through the slots in the bleachers that I'm hiding behind. A figure is making their way down the hill to the field. Clad in blue with a bob of blonde hair, I'm sure its Ms. Matthews. She reaches the field, then continues across it, to the very edge of the forest. I follow using the bleachers then trees as cover. At the very edge of the woods, she stops and looks around. Suddenly, a figure emerges from the woods. He is skinny, with black greasy hair, and cold piercing eyes. I recognize him as Eric.

I creep closer, and set my phone to video. Why on Earth is Ms. Matthews meeting with Eric?

"So?" Eric snaps.

"You are the one who called this meeting. I figured you would have a topic in mind," Jeanine responds. I can feel the condescension rolling off of her in waves.

Eric doesn't mind, he takes it in stride. He smiles pleasantly while saying, "I do, in fact."

She waits. "So, what is it?"

He grins, "Our friends are still working on getting the money for the stuff. But, they promised that they would make the payment eventually…after the…event. They want it shipped to them by Friday."

Jeanine's eyes are bulging. "And did you tell them that that was insane? No way am I going to trust them to pay me BILLIONS after they already got what they wanted. And by Friday? I would be working 24 hours everyday this weeks in order to get something set up."

Eric nods, "That's true, but I wouldn't want to upset the man you're about to give, you know, weapons of mass destruction to," He reasons, searching the woods for people as he says it. I shrink back behind by my tree.

Eric makes a good point, and Jeanine knows it. "I suppose I can make a compromise," She mutters. "How do you think our friends would feel about 75% now, shipment on Friday, and the last 25% after."

Eric smiles brightly. "I'm sure they would be quite appeased with that… as long as I get a good 5% of the earnings."

Jeanine frowns and looks down at him. "I thought we had agreed on 3%."

"Well, yeah," Eric muses, "But that was before you started using my room to hide your documents. I mean, I understand the thought process behind it… but it puts me in quite the pickle," He popped the p on pickle obnoxiously.

Ms. Matthews glowers at him. "Fine, 5%."

Eric smiles. "It was a pleasure doing business with you." He turns back into the woods dramatically.

Jeanine huffs, and starts to make her way back to the school. I just wait for a minute, hidden in the thick brush surrounding the tree. Then I look at my phone. I forgot that it was still running. I turn the screen back to me, and look for the video. Wait, its not here. I panic. Oh my God. I just had enough evidence to bring both of them down. AND I WASN"T RECORDING. I am so mad at myself right now. I can't believe it. I can't deal with anything right now. I take off in an angry sprint. I don't know where I'm heading. I just let my legs carry me. Past the field, into the storage locker, through the Dauntless compound. Into the training room.

It's only when I get there that I realize what I was doing. I was looking for Four. He's not here, though, thank God. I don't want to have to explain this to him. Now, I'm in the empty training room, so angry that I feel it moving through my veins, burning me with blood lust. I turn to the nearest punching bag and swing, hard. The rough surface of the bag tears through my skin, leaving raw patches, but it feels good. The anger had swelled down for a moment. I take another swing, then another. Before long, I am aiming a full powered barrage at the poor bag. I don't even hear it when someone comes in, and strolls up behind me.I am totally surprised when a deep, soft voice materializes behind me.

"Hey," I hear. I turn round, my fiery assault stopped in its tracks. Four is standing behind me looking both amused and concerned at the same time.

"Uh, hey," I mutter, substantially disoriented.

"What are you up to?"

"Just," I frown. I don't know how to put it, without giving too much away. I tend to do that with him. "Getting some anger out," I decide.

He pouts, staring at my hands. He takes one in his, "Hmmm. I see. Next time, before 'getting some anger out', you should probably tape your hands," He recommends, smiling just slightly. "Lets get you cleaned up."

He pulls me over to the edge of ring. Now the he mentioned it, and my anger at myself has died out, my hands really freaking hurt. Most of the skin on my knuckles had peeled off, and even were it hadn't totally been torn off, it was raw and pink. Looking over my shoulder, I notice that the bag I was wailing on is splattered with blood. Whoopsies.

"Sit," Four commands. I comply, plopping down on a stool off to the side of the ring. He pulls out a medical kit, and a brown bottle. "This is gonna hurt, just a little," He warns me, pouring a bit of the liquid in the bottle onto a cotton ball. "But I think you can handle it," He grins. He dabs my knuckles with the cotton ball. It stings a little, but it could be worse.

"So, what led you to beat the crap out of that poor punching bag?" He inquires. It's less of a command than usual, more casual.

"I just made a stupid mistake, and I was kinda mad," I admit.

He snorts, "Been there."

We sit silently as he bandages up my hands.

"That should do it." He announces when he finishes. "Have you eaten yet?"

"No, I should probably go do that." I mumble.

"Yeah…" He looks like he's about to say something else, but he doesn't.

"Do you wanna come?" I ask innocently.

"Yea, I guess I should. Don't want you beating up any innocent passerby," He teases.

I roll my eyes.

* * *

"Where do you want to sit?" I ask, nervously. It had dawned upon me on the walk down that I am going to sit with Four, in front of everybody. It feels natural to me, maybe a little disappointing that we are just hanging like friends, but technically, I'm not supposed have a relationship with him other than distant respect. He is above me, and I am below him, and we shouldn't be friends. I guess its just one more thing stacked against me.

"How about with your friends?" He offers.

I look over at our table, trying to hide my horror. I was hoping he would suggest sitting with his friends… I forgot that he probably doesn't want to be seen with me. My friends are a pack of hyenas: their heads are thrown back in wild laughter, and Lynn, covered in a gross brown liquid, is scrambling over the table at Marlene. Do I really want to subject him to that madhouse?

It's too late. Al had caught sight of me and waved. Four noticed him, and pulled me over. We were met by surprised silence. I stood there, mortified for just a moment too long before realizing that I should be introducing them or something.

"Uh, you guys all know Four," I say lamely.

"Hey! Uriah grins, "You're the infamous Four?"

"Infamous?" Four questions, obviously pleased.

"Oh yeah, Lauren is always talking about how much of a pansy you are," Uriah teases.

"Well, next time Lauren calls me a pansy, remind her of of the Freshman Hazing Fiasco," Four warns vaguely.

I look at the other people at the table, they are all staring with expectant faces.

"Care to tell us what that is?" Christina pushed.

He smiled widely, then jumps into a hysterical story about how they ended up a victim of Dauntless hazing, stripped down to their underwear and tied up in a chair, sitting on the edge of the roof of the gymnasium. I'm sure the event was terrifying at the time, but he tells it like a comedy. By the end, we are all in a laughing fit. I never knew he could be so friendly, so normal. Uriah takes over the conversation again, with gusto, explaining how he is going to avoid Freshman hazing with his elaborate plan.

Four's gaze interlocks with mine, his neon blue eyes dancing. He smiles, a warm smile that takes my breath away.

Friends...

**A/N: I apologize deeply for the long wait. You guys deserve better than this, y'all have been you supportive, and I love all of your reviews and ideas. Seeing that people care about this story, the characters, and myself is really cool. Hope you loved the chapter.**


	25. Chapter 23

**A/N: I can't believe how badly I am failing you guys. You are all so supportive and great, and I should be putting you all as a priority, but my time is slipping, my writing is slipping, and you guys deserve more. I'm going to try to put in more effort now, anne give you the story that you guys, my wonderful online friends, deserve. **

Chapter 23

Tris

When I really thought about it, my day had actually been pretty good. I had gotten some pretty good information about Jeanine, I beat Will during our afternoon Dauntless class, and then in my private lesson with Four, I actually was able to take him down. It was only for a moment, but I still count that for something. I'm lying down, deeply satisfied, when Christina swoops in, her eyes searching, hungry. He gaze reaches me.

"There you are!" She strides over. "So?"

I sit up, a little annoyed. I was so happy just sitting there, waiting for sleep. "What?"

She lets out an exasperated huff. "So, What's going on between you and Four?"

I rub my eyes. Its too late for this. "Nothing, Christina. Go to bed."

Unfortunately, she picks now to be insistent. "Nuh uh. Not going to cut it you literally told me nothing, and that in the lunchroom was definitely not nothing."

I sigh. "You really want to know?" I grumble. She scoots closer expectantly. "We are just friends. Just. Friends." I am barely able to hide the pain in my voice.

Christina narrows her eyes. "I still don't believe it."

I throw my hands up, surrendering. "Fine, you can believe what ever the hell you want, but thats the truth."

Christina softens a bit. "You like him," She whispers.

For a moment I just don't talk. Christina has a built in lie radar so if I deny it, she'll know and be mad at me, but if I tell her, she'll still know and just not be mad at me. Or I guess I could just stay quiet forever. She is staring at me, a knowing smile on her face. I realize that, even if I deny it, she'll just go on believing it anyways.

I stare at the floor, feeling a warmth spread up into my cheeks. "Yes," I admit quietly.

Christina leaps up in triumph, "Yes. Yes I knew it!" She exclaims. "Omigosh, you guys would be so CUTE together," She squeals. I try, almost successfully, to smother her excitement.

"It's not like it matters," I spit bitterly. "There's no way he likes me."

"And how would _you _know that?" She questions, a little condescendingly.

I purse my lips. "He is always saying how we are such good friends. I mean, I don't mind being friends. I love just being around him. He's so cool, and so sweet-" At that Christina scoffs.

"What?" I half-whine.

"Nothing, it's just that he doesn't quite…come off that way," She says hesitantly.

I shrug.

"Well," Christina continues, "As far as the "friends" thing goes, I still don't believe it for a moment. I think that the real problem is that boys _suck _at communicating."

I feel a small, incredulous smile creeping onto my face. "I doubt anyone is better than you are at talking," I tease.

She pretends that she didn't hear me. "So, what we are going to do, is make it impossible for him to not say anything."

"And how are we going to do that?" I ask, indulging her.

"The party." Is all she says. Uh-oh. I know that this is going to suck.

* * *

I was right. That last three days have totally sucked. My days started before dawn, going out in the freezing cold to run with Four. Then continued into boring, unchallenging classes, and worrying about Jeanine. Trying to figure out a way to get into her office, maybe into her phone. Then, lunch, grueling fights, worrying about my fight with Peter coming up, and tough private sessions with Four. And to top it off, Christina has been dragging my ass all over creation looking for an outfit that is 'hot, but still me'.

I'm not totally into this training session right now. Four is inches behind me, urging me on and giving me tips, but I'm not really listening. Even when he says to take a break, I continue to absently swing at the punching bag.

"Tris," He comes between me and the bag, his gorgeous blue eyes snapping me out of my stupor. "You alright?" Concern paints his face.

"Uh, yeah. Just kinda busy nowadays."

"Not too busy to come to the party tonight, I hope." He asks, trying to keep the mood light.

"Yeah, I mean, no, I'll be there." I say shaking my head clear of the fog.

His smile still has a worried tint to it. "Are you sure-"

"I'm fine." I cut him off, the daze wearing off.

He notices the change, and nods. "Okay. Thats it for today. Your gonna give Peter a run for his money on Tuesday." He grins.

"Wait, Tuesday?" I gasp. I didn't realize that it was coming up so soon.

"Thats the last day of our fighting unit."

"Oh, yeah." I bite my lip. I thought I had another week before the big fight. Thank God its the weekend. I don't think I could handle anything else right now. I just need to blow off some steam. "Alright, I'll see you tonight, Four."

"Do you want me to walk you back? You look a little off, Tris."

I wave him away. "Nah, I'm good." Unfortunately for my cause, at that moment I stumbled back and almost fell on a pile of gym equipment. I barely catch myself on the edge of the ring. Four throws his head back in laughter.

"Sure you are," He chuckles. He picks me up from my awkward crouching position, and helps me settle on my feet. I am intensely aware of the fact that his arm is still draped around me. "Come on," He urges, puling me along.

We walk back to the initiate's room. With the warm pressure of his arm draped across my shoulder, I can't say that I'm upset about his persistence about walking me back. The walk actually seems too short. When we reach my door, I frown. This can't be it. "You know that you didn't need to do that," I remind him.

"Oh, but I did," He teases, shuffling closer. "I couldn't responsible for you tripping and hurting yourself days before your big fight."

His closeness startles me. It sends thrills up and down my body. All I can do is let out a breathy laugh. He unravels his arm from my shoulder and slides it down so that his long, slender fingers are entwined with mine. My heart flutters frantically and my brain is thrown into overdrive. Suddenly, I notice the things that I never have before; how the little bit of stubble on his face is just a shade darker than his chocolate brown hair, how his eyes crinkle at the corners, like wrinkled parchment, how his mouth naturally turns down at the corners, making him look like a sad kid.

My thoughts are balloons that drift away as I just gape at Four. That is, until the door opens up from behind me, shoving me off balance, and sending me sprawling into Four. He catches me easily, gracefully. My forehead rests perfectly in the nook between his jaw and collarbone. It fits like a puzzle piece. But I am ripped from my ideal hiding spot too soon.

Four has jumped back up and put a good three or four feet of space between us. He has regained his soldier-straight posture, and his face is guarded, unreadable. Christina is standing in the door way, a knowing smile on her face.

"What are you two up to?" She wiggles her finger between Four and I.

"I was walking Tris back," Four states stonily.

Four's grave expression catches Christina off guard. It was obviously not the reaction that she was expecting. "Oh," She says, her excitement sated. She turns to me. "Tris, get inside. We have a lot of work to do."

I give Four a small, disappointed smile, then scurry inside. I allow myself one last look at Four over my shoulder. His face is expressionless, but his eyes bore into mine intensely.

Then, Christina slams the door shut.


	26. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Tris

I cannot believe this. I have spent the last three days combing through racks upon racks of clothing, to finally come across something that Christina and I could agree on, and, yet, here I am, standing in front of the full length mirror in our bedroom, in a completely foreign, skimpy outfit.

"What the hell, Chris! I thought we agreed on those black jeans and top," I growl.

She swats the air. "Please. Those were much too conservative for a Dauntless party. I'm doing you a favor."

I just turn back towards the mirror and silently stew. Maybe she was right about the jeans and shirt being a bit too plain, but this is ridiculous. I am currently dressed in a black, low cut tank top. When put like that it doesn't sound that bad, but this thing was _low cut, _like if it weren't for the fact that I have no chest whatsoever, it would be completely inappropriate. Paired with that, I have black jeans, also similar, but they were much tighter than I am used to, and huge 'trendy' rips exposed my thighs all the way up. The black boots and heavy makeup that Christina had ended with gave me a sharp dangerous look.

On second look, the outfit is really quite similar to what I was going to wear anyways. And it makes me feel different. Hot. Dangerous. I wonder what my father would think if he saw me right now. He'd probably disown me. That makes me smile a bit- I'm still pissed at the way he acted when he figured out that Caleb and I didn't choose Abnegation. I'll have to thank Christina for this later.

Christina walks out, looking gorgeous as ever, and catches me appraising myself in the mirror again. "See? Told you you'd get used to it," She teased smugly. I stuck my tongue out at her, and grabbed my stuff, butterflies swirling in my stomach. I can feel it, this night is going to be something special.

* * *

By the time we get to the party, it is in full swing. Music blasts through the walls, which are almost pressed outward with the number of people in the dormitory, and people are dancing with a panicky urgency. The room itself seems to be swaying with the beat. A nervous energy bubbles into my veins, so potent that when Uriah steps out in front of us, I almost punch him, my training from Four kicking in.

A huge grin spreads across his face, "Hey, guys," He yelled over the pounding noise, leaning in so that we can catch the words. "Welcome to my brother's place. Booze is over there," He points to a table completely swamped by staggering, boisterous adolescents, "And I think Will and Al are over there, if you're looking for them."

"Okay, thanks," Christina shouts distractedly.

Uriah gives us one nod before scuttling off to the booze table to stop what looks like a fight brewing. Christina and I push our way through the dance floor. It's impossible. Like trying to push through a sweaty, pulsing, horny wall. We find that it easier if we move with the beat, too, and kind of dance our way over to the other side.

"Hey guys!" Christina yells when we get over to them.

They nod and smile in our direction. They both looked flushed, and a sheen of sweat plasters Will's blonde hair to this forehead.

"You guys were dancing without us," I accuse.

Al just shrugs. Will guiltily stares up at Christina, who shakes her head in mock annoyance.

"I'm going to get some drinks for us," She announces.

I sit down next to Al, and we start to chat about initiation, and just school, but I'm not really that into it. I mean, its nice that Al and I can talk like normal people again, rather than ignoring each other, however, I haven't seen Four yet, and its making me a little nervous. What if he decided he didn't want to come? Or already is with another girl?

"You okay?" Al shakes me from my daydreams.

"Oh yeah, just stressed." I offer weakly.

"You know what'll help with that?" He pauses dramatically, "Dancing!" He grabs me by the arm and drags me up to the dance floor.

We are on the edge of the floor when I remember that I have no idea how to dance. Al smiles widely and starts to sway to the jolting music, like a massive oak tree in a powerful storm. I follow his lead, cautiously swaying and watching the people around me. I close my eyes for a moment and let the beat of the music lead me instead. I let myself slip away and disappear into the music, letting it wrap around me a squeeze out all of the doubt. I distantly feel my limbs moving more surely, my hair falling in my eyes, a hand touching my elbow...?

I spin around. Four is standing behind me, an amused, slightly shocked look on his face. "I didn't know that you could dance," he yells over the music.

I shrug. I can feel my face turning red. I look over at Al who has stopped dancing, and looks disappointed. He gives me a nod and a smile, halfhearted smile, then stalks off the dance floor.

He smirks at my blush and begins pulling me off the dance floor. "Oh yeah, I got this for you," He announces, lifting up his other hand, which is holding onto a halfway empty bottle of liquor.

"Uh, thanks," I say nervously, appraising it. I've never had alcohol before, and frankly, I don't want to. I don't like that it makes you lose control of yourself, that it can make you not remember. I don't plan on drinking it.

He leads us over into a quieter corner. I notice that his gait is off, heavier and less graceful than usual. He turns around abruptly and squints at me. "You look good, Tris," He says taking a swig from the bottle, "You always do."

I blush even deeper. "Well, I can honestly say that you've looked better," I have noticed the distance in his gaze, the way that his usually tan, smooth skin looks sallow and sticky. "Maybe you should slow down with that," I gesture at the glass bottle. I can smell it from here.

He shrugs, "I can hold my alcohol," He promises.

Just then, a beautiful girl, no woman, walks over to us. She is tall, has gorgeous, long brown hair, a pretty face, and is dressed in a short black and white dress. "Hey, I'm Brittany, Candor." She purrs at Four. Like I'm not even there. She leans in and whispers something in Four's ear. He immediately pulls back.

"Excuse, me Bri-ttany," He slurs, "But you just interrupted a very nice conversation with my friend Tris, so I'm gonna have to ask you to leave us alone and go find another guy for you to demean yourself with." He ended his little speech with a hiccup and turned back to me.

Brittany stormed away, indignant and hurt. "You could've been a little more subtle," I chastise him, confused but rather pleased; Four would rather just hang out with me than do-Lord knows what- with gorgeous Brittany.

He shrugs and takes another sip from the bottle. He suddenly breaks out into a giant grin, like he is going to say something. He opens his mouth, then suddenly turns around and vomits into a potted plant. The noise of the splashing, and gushing of the vomit makes me sick, though I haven't had anything to eat or drink in a while.

He turns around and looks only slightly embarrassed. "Should we get you home?" I offer.

He shakes his head adamantly. Then turns around again and throws up into the bushes.


	27. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Tris

"Just drop it, Four," I snap. My patience is thinning. The alcohol had quickly caught up with him, and he had needed to use me for support all the way around the room to the door. Despite that, he has still been sneaking in gulps of booze between steps.

"I'm fine, Trissy," He says rolling his eyes. Like it hasn't been a minute since he last vomited.

I keep my hand on the bottle and stare him straight in the eye.

Instead of letting go of the bottle like I had hoped, he giggles, "Has anyone told you how attractive you are when you're mad?"

I can't tell whether or not he's serious, so I just choose to ignore the comment. He's drunk, I remind myself. But still, a part of me is giddy from the compliment.

I rip the bottle from his hand. He frowns, but makes no move to get it back.

"Where's your room?" I ask a little more softly.

"I'll show you," He grins, standing up shakily. He takes one step without me and almost falls into a trashcan.

"Woah, careful," I warn him. I drape his arm around me, and position myself so that my shoulder is in his ribcage. Not the most comfortable for either of us, but at least he is not falling all over himself.

We already in the corridor where most of the junior's rooms are, so his room must be close.

"Which way?" I order.

He blinks a couple of times before pointing to the left."Thata way."

I drag him in the direction he pointed.

"You smell nice," He points out, making a point of sniffing me.

I huff out a long, exasperated breath.

I pull him 25 more yards before he abruptly reaches for a door handle.

"What are you doing?" I say pulling him off the door.

"This is my room," He pouts.

"Oh," I say, letting him open the door.

He swings the door wide open, and gestures grandly to the space that opens up before me. "Welcome to my humble abode," he grins. Then, suddenly his face twists in surprise and he runs off to what I assume is the bathroom. Gross splashing sounds echo from the back of the apartment, where a small bedroom and bathroom are situated. I creep into the bathroom. Four is kneeling on the grey tiled floor, hunched over the toilet.

"You okay?" I ask.

He nods, but it doesn't look like it. He is slumped over, completely defeated. I rope my arms around him from behind and pull him over to his bed. I position him on his side.

"I'll be right back," I whisper.

He nods softly.

I scuttle out of the bedroom and into the kitchen/living room space that 'favorite' Dauntless students get. I pour two glasses of water: one for me, and one for him. Then I search through the pantries for a big pot. The closest thing I could find was a grey plastic bucket. I grabbed it and hurried back into the bedroom.

He smiled tiredly when he saw me, "Thanks, Tris." He said sleepily.

"No problem," I assure him.

I get up to leave, but Four groans, "Wait, Tris. Can you…stay? Just for a little bit," He slurs drowsily.

"Mmm-hmm," I agree. I sit on the floor next to the bed and rest my head against his knee. I listen to his deep, even breaths, and I find myself starting to drift off. I suppose that it would be okay to rest. Just for a little bit. I curl closer into Four and close my eyes.

* * *

I awake confused, and panicked. It takes a couple of minutes to remember where I am and how I got here. Blurry, crazy memories from the party swirl around in my sleep muddled brain, like a soup made of deafening noises, blinding lights, and images of a very drunk Four.

I look up at Four. He's sleeping, which makes him look a lot younger, and more vulnerable. The rigid set of his jaw is gone, as is the crease between eyebrows. I don't want to wake him up, so I carefully lift my head off of the bed, and stretch out. Everything is sore. My neck is sore from sleeping weird, my shoulders are sore from holding up Four, my head is sore from the craziness of the party last night, and my throat is sore from dehydration. I make that my first priority.

I walk out into the kitchen and pour myself a glass of water. I search the drawers for a notepad and a pencil. I don't want to wake him, but I also don't want him to worry, so I figure a note is a good idea. I finally find one, and scribble down some lame excuse.

_Four, _

_I think I overstayed my welcome. It's 7 o'clock, I must have fallen asleep last night in your room. I'm sorry. I just don't want you to worry about me. Remember to drink a lot of water and rest. Don't want you to hurt yourself. Hope to see you soon._

_-Tris_

I leave the note on the kitchen counter and leave. I feel like an absolute mess, hair mussed, clothing disheveled, make up smudged. I can't imagine what this looks like.

I am halfway back and rounding a corner when a door is thrown open, and a tall, lanky boy steps out. _ Eric. _He stalks off, leaving the door to shut behind him, but I don't let it. Instinctively, I rush out and catch it just before the latch snaps back into place. Then, I hesitate. This could be a really bad idea. I don't know if he's alone in there, if he'll be back soon, or if there's even any evidence in there.

But, in the end, it's too good of an opportunity to pass up. I creep into the apartment, turn the lights on and begin scouring. I thought I saw his laptop in his hand when he was leaving, so there is no use in looking for that. Instead I try looking for papers, or files, or books. Anything.

I look for 5 or 10 minutes, but still, nothing. I sigh. There's no use. I lean back and slide down a big oak bookcase, nearly tipping it over. I caught it before it picked up speed and, either crushed me or gave me away, as I wouldn't have been able to pick it back up. I push it back up and bent down to retrieve the stuff that had fallen off of it, and right there, on the floor was a flash drive.

I almost scream with joy. This is the exact break through that I have been waiting for. _There's a possibility that there is nothing on this flash drive, _I remind myself, but my spirits still soar. I grab my stuff and basically skip out of the room. It was like it was meant to be, like God himself is rooting for me. It was my own little miracle. And not a moment too soon.

The door had just latched behind me when Eric strides around the corner, his greasy black hair sweeping over his face, which was pulled back in an ugly frown. He glances up at me coldly. "Can I help you?" He snaps.

"I was, uh, just looking for Four. He said this was his address," I pull out my phone, as if it actually has the proof on it. Fortunately, Eric doesn't check.

He narrows his eyes. "Well, this is certainly not his place."

"Yes, I got that," I say patiently.

"Scram." He barks.

I jump, then scramble away, my hands shaking and my teeth chattering from the excitement of almost getting caught.

I have the flash drive. Now I can just rest. One thing off my plate.

I am just settling down, curling around my blanket when my wrist is snatched by someone above me. A figure swings down from Al's bunk.

"You have a lot of explaining to do."

**A/N: Sorry to leave you all with a cliffhanger, but I made up for it by posting TWO chapters today, right? Anyways, soccer season is ending this week, so I will have a lot of time on my hands to get some good chapters in…at least until basketball season rolls around! Oh yea, and don't forget to share this fic with your friends ;D!**


	28. Chapter 26

**A/N: I've been so sucky to you all. I swear that I haven't quit with this story, but it has just been put on the back burner while I struggle to keep my math grade afloat. Please don't be mad at me. It would be deserved, but I swear I'm trying... Anyways, I've decided to reward you patient people with a Four POV chapter ;) Hope you love!**

**Chapter** 27

Four

Saturday

All I can feel is my splitting headache, and the waves of nausea that threaten to overtake me. I always feel this way after a night of drinking, like _really _drinking, and I always ask myself if its worth the effects, and the answer is always yes. If it means that I am free from the memories of my father, my dark passenger, even for just one night, I would do anything. Tris makes me forget Him.

I roll over to the side. I can't quite read the alarm clock. I shift, and rub my eyes. The red blinking numbers clear up. 1:30 pm. Not too late, but I should probably get up. Only have 1 and a half more days before Tris' big fight with Peter.

I drag my aching body out of bed. My joints pop in protest. I notice a glass of water and a bucket next to my bed. I vaguely remember Tris begin here last night. I sigh. She probably thinks I'm a dumb ass now. She can do better than a beat up, immature high school boy.

The tiles in the bathroom are freezing, but the water is hot. It cascades down from above, the warm water unknotting my muscles like a masseuse sent from heaven. I bet Tris would give good massages. She's strong and tactful.

It's too short though. A knock on the door rips me from my heaven. I snap the water off.

"One second," I bark.

I nab a fluffy white towel and wrap it around my waist, then shuffle to the door. I open it swiftly, and am immediately face to face with a scrawny, greasy haired scumbag, or as others might call him, Eric. But, personally, I prefer 'scrawny, greasy haired scumbag'. I look down at him. "Can I _help _you?" I ask impatiently.

Eric's permanent scowl deepens. "I think you can, but you don't need to be rude." As he says it, he pushes his way into my living room/ kitchen space, and positions pulls out a chair for himself. "Perhaps you want to put some pants on first?"

I nod stiffly. "If that would make you more comfortable." I run back into my room, pull on a blue checkered pair of boxers, grey sweatpants, and a black waffle-style thermal shirt. I towel off my hair and briefly run my fingers through it. Then head back into the kitchen area to face Eric.

He is pacing when I return. It sets me on edge. Eric is not the type of guy to pace. He is the type of guy that rarely shows his emotions. We are alike in that way, I guess.

"Better?" I ask, maybe a bit sharply.

Eric just glares. "You have something of mine."

I feel my face drop into a frown. "And what would that be?"

He gets up and moves closer to me. "You know what it would be," He snarls.

There's a desperate hint to his accusations. Desperation makes people dangerous. I assess him not as a peer, but rather an enemy. I know he is small, but he got the same, flawless training that all Dauntless get. I also notice the glint of a knife carefully hidden in the waistband of his black, skinny jeans. My heart rate speeds up, sensing danger. It sends hot pulses of blood through my already hurting head, making the annoying pulsing turn into waves of pain crashing rhythmically into the insides of my skull.

"Why do you think I have your stuff?" I try to keep my voice even, but impatience is bubbling inside me.

"Cuz I saw your _girlfriend _sniffing around outside my apartment earlier."

I roll my eyes. "If I had a girlfriend, she would be instructed to stay as far away from you as possible."

Eric lets out a small laugh. More of a cold, shrill bark than a laugh. "You think I don't know about that freshman? That everyone doesn't know? The one with the blonde hair. With the Erudite brother and the Abnegation alumni parents?"

"Tris and I are just friends." I growl. "And don't pull her into this. You probably just lost your-what is it that your even looking for?"

Eric doesn't answer. "Tris. Tell me about her. She looks weak, doesn't she? Like a little doll."

I immediately perk up. Tris would resent that. "She's stronger than she looks. And smart. As sharp as a dagger."

Eric smirks. "Strong and smart enough to break into my room?"

I feel my pride for sticking up for Tris fade into horror and self loathing as I realize why I've just done. I've put her directly into the cross hairs of frantic, evil madman. Eric takes my stunned silence as an affirmation. A light reflects on the metal blade of his knife poking out of his jeans. Shit.

There is no way I'm taking my eyes off of her today, or ever till Eric finds whatever it is he's looking for.

Besides, I want to know what she was doing in Eric's room, too.

**A/N: I felt bad, so I wanted to get this out there as soon as possible. Yes, its a little short, but its also pretty important to the plot. There will be more. With a shorter wait. **


	29. Chapter 27 (Four's POV)

**A/N: I am truly so embarrassed that I have not been updating as often as I should. I know how annoying that is, I see it with other authors, and in the beginning I vowed to never do that. However, I am feeling my passion for this story turn into annoyance, even frustration, as this project is taking up much more time than I thought it would. I have been ****struggling with writing quality chapters in a good amount of time. I will continue to put as much effort as I can spare into this story, but as readers, would you rather the chapters come more quickly, and possibly be of poorer quality, or have the chapters be crafted slowly, and with great detail?**

Chapter 26

Tris

You would've thought by the way Christina is looking at me that I had just come back from murdering Will or something. I squirm nervously under her intense gaze.

"What do you mean?" I ask, startled.

She puffs out an angry breath. "What HAPPENED to you last night? You were there one second just dancing with Al and then I turn back around and I can't find you, and now your hobbling in at 7 in the morning, and looking like you just dragged yourself out of a ditch, and-" She breaks off from her rant, running out of breath. Her mood shifts quickly, and she pulls me into a tight hug. "And I'm so glad you're okay. We thought that Peter might've… but I'm so happy to see you."

She broke off the hug and appraised me. "Wait, so what did happen to you?"

"Well, Four was there, and he pulled me off to the side-"

Christina didn't let me finish, instead just squealing like a child on Christmas. "OHMIGOSH. DID YOU GUYS HOOK UP?"

"What? No!" I cut her off hurriedly.

Not that she was listening anymore. She had begun a soliloquy about how she didn't think I was _that _type of girl, but was happy for me, and all of this other bullshit.

"Christina," I try to physically shake her out of her bubbling excitement. "We didn't hook up. He was really drunk and I just took him back to his apartment and I fell asleep taking care of him."

Her excitement waned. "Oh."

I stifle a yawn. "Chris, I'm tired, my neck hurts, is it cool if I just take a nap?"

"Ugh, fine," She groans. "I'll be with Will if you need me."

I nod and sink into the soft, familiar fabric of my own bed.

* * *

I wake up groggy and confused. It's Monday morning, but I am still feeling the effects of my very busy weekend. I had spent Saturday trying to sleep off the party, and Sunday training hard with Four for today. The fight with Peter. The flash drive is tucked underneath my mattress, not a clever hiding spot, but, I doubt Eric would immediately think it was me, if he even knows that it is missing right now.

I roll out of bed, before realizing that I can sleep in today. Four canceled our running session so that I could get more rest before my final fight. I stretch out and try to relax, but I can't. Im so used to getting up early.

Eventually, I just give up on sleeping and pull myself out of bed. I pull on my exercise clothing, a black tank top, black shorts, and black sneakers. I stop to glance at myself in the mirror. I look different. Dark, dangerous. The soft outline of tough muscle rolls through my arms and legs, coating by bony frame with stringy meat. Even my eyes seem to have gotten sharper. I shake myself out, and then plug in my headphones. I blast noisy, bass-heavy songs for a while. The loud, pounding beats hypnotize me a little, send me back to Friday.

I don't know how long I sit in the room, just rocking in front of the mirror. It must've been a long time, though. My stomach rumbles, shaking me from my daze. I shake my joints out, and swallow the nervousness in my belly. I head to the dining hall.

I'm surprised by the atmosphere in the dining hall. It seems sleepy, subdued. I realize that its only a big day for initiates, maybe only for me. All of the other fights I could probably call the winners of beforehand. That kind of throws me. I guess not everyone has been working towards this moment for the last several weeks.

"Why do we have to sit through classes today?" Christina groans as I approach. "The Abnegation didn't have to when they were going to help those kids in the city."

"They were going to Boston for the whole day, sweetie," Will answers cautiously.

Christina still glares, resenting the correction.

I clear my throat. "Morning."

Christina whirls around, her bad mood almost visible, a red haze surrounding her. "Where do _you _go every morning?" She snaps.

"Uh, I was just listening to music," I kind of dodge the question, taken aback by her sharpness.

"Oh, so you don't sneak around to go flirt with cute guys?" She accuses.

I feel my face burn red. "What are you talking about?" I question meekly.

"I'm talking about the cute girl at the library that I caught you with, you bastard," Christina turns, yelling at Will. The tables around us quiet.

Will leans in towards Christina. "Can we do this later?" He spits.

"Can we do this later?!" Christina shouts, exasperated. "For us maybe there shouldn't be a later."

Will whips his head up. "You don't mean that." He whispers, reaching for her arm.

"You don't know me." She growls. She rips her arm out of his hand, and stalks out of the dining hall.

Oh boy, this is going to be a good day.


	30. Chapter 28

**A/N: Here's the chapter I promised! There's a little bit of time jumping here again. I might switch the places of Chapters 26 and 27, just so they make more sense. But this is back to_ the day of Tris' fight with Peter. _Just so you don't get confused. BTW, check out brwatson's ****fic: The Test! Its awesome, super well written, and you should definitely take a look at it!**

Chapter 28

Tris

The Day of The Fight

I can hardly pay attention to any of my classes. The teachers still drone on, but it only goes in one ear and out the other, replaced by the rushing noise of my blood pumping. Butterflies bounce in my stomach. My fingers shake. I focus on these sensations; it helps me slow my swirling thoughts.

During my history class, instead of taking notes on the Trail of Tears, I go over all of the moves Four and I worked on. The punches, take downs, kicks, blocks, and other maneuvers blend into a graceful dance in my mind, Four and I twirling and whirling across the ring. Except, in a few hours my partner will be Peter.

Just thinking his name makes me shudder with rage and, though I would never admit it to anyone, a little fear. I finally have a chance to stand up to him, but that doesn't comfort me. In fact, it worries me a lot. Peter is big, strong, and quick. Do I really have a chance against him?_Yes, _I assure myself. I have been working with Four for weeks, all of it leading up to this. Of course I have a chance. Then Peter will wallow off in shame and just leave me alone. I hope.

The final bell rings, releasing me from my bondage. I basically sprint out the front doors and down into the Dauntless compound. I grab a lunch, but have no intention of eating it. This might be the only time that pizza has ever looked unappetizing.

Christina and I sit at a different table than Will and Al. After their big fight this morning, it seemed like a good idea. She chatters on, whiny and complaining about Will, like today is just any day. I guess it is, for her. She hasn't been working overtime for a month, all for this day. So I humor her. I nod when she pauses, and laugh when she laughs. I'm not ignoring her, but I'm not paying her full attention either.

"Tris, what is it? I'm not stupid; I can tell that your not paying attention."

I make a mental note to work on my acting. "Um," I don't really know what to say. It's a whole range of issues, really, so I just pick the biggest one out of the pile. "i have my fight with Peter today."

"Oh." She doesn't say anything else. We just kind of sit quietly. She expects me to lose. I can see it in her face: the downcast eyes, the resigned shoulder slump, her mouth pulled down in a pout that basically said, 'oh well'. It pisses me off. She doesn't know how hard I've been working, how strong I've gotten, how pumped I am for this fight. I despise her pity. I don't want it. As we walk from the lunchroom to the training room, the nervous butterflies light into burning rage. This isn't just about Peter. This is about all of the people who think that I can't do it, 'cause I'm small or a girl or should've been in Abnegation, or whatever. But you know what? Screw them. I got this.

My nerves are suddenly alive. Pure electricity pulses through my veins, spiking my blood with intense, focused energy. I can feel it now. Before I was just picturing it, but now, I can feel it all coming together.

Peter stands on the other side of the ring. If I didn't know him better, I might mistake him for being kind right now. He has deep, warm brown eyes that seem to sparkle, and is wearing a small smile. Only those who know him know that the sparkle in his eyes is one of malice, and that the smile is his anticipation of the fight, of beating me to a bloody pulp. I walk over to the blackboard where Four puts the schedule. I look under today's, Peter and I are first on the list. Good. I can't wait to wipe that little smirk of his face.

Four walks in. He shouts some order that I don't really hear, so I just follow Christina over to where a group is forming.

"Welcome to the last day of your fighting training. On the board, I have your pairs. You are paired with the person who is the closest to you in skill, so that I can truly judge your abilities. Your grade will be based mainly off of this fight."

"Pfft. Easy A." Peter snickers to Drew, his burly partner in crime. "Can't believe I lucked out and got a sissy like Tris."

I know he wanted me to hear it, so I just turned away. We'll settle this in the ring. There's no need to partake in his silly games.

Four stalks up to the ring. He looks me in the eye. "Tris." My stomach flutters when he says my name, but I push it down. Now is not the time for feelings and crap like that. No, this is about redemption. "You're with Peter. Up first."

I walk up to the stairs, but Four grabs me before I make it into the ring. "Just give it all you've got, Tris. Be Dauntless."

Be Dauntless. The words echo in my head as I climb into the ring. As I stare down Peter. As the world around me slows. As the bell rings.


	31. Chapter 29

**A/N: I've been hard at work on this chapter. I was going to post it sooner, but I wanted to make sure that it was perfect, because I owe you guys that. I hope that you love this!**

Chapter 29

Tris

The sound of the bell is still ringing in my ears when Peter charges me, his arms outstretched. I side step him, barely dodging his outstretched arms. It would have left him completely vulnerable, if I hadn't been off balance and still shocked from his aggressive charge. I could have tripped him, or pushed him, just done something to use his momentum against him, but too late now.

Peter turns around swiftly. He's light on his feet for such a big guy, I'll give him that. I'm not sure what I'm going to do. While my training and instincts are good, Peter has speed, strength, and a natural bloodlust that I could never match. And while his strengths are easily pinned down, his weakesses are much more subtle. His quick charge wasn't a good idea, but it also could've just been a mistake or even part of a long, detailed strategy- I don't really know how smart he is. He seems pretty dumb, but he's got this evil glint in his eyes, the type of malice that shows a hint of cleverness.

I decide to test him. I throw a quick, but not too powerful punch at him, just too see his reaction. If in his position, I would have just easily jumped out of the way. However, Peter jumps in front of it. He catches by soft, half-assed punch and holds my arm, twisting me into him. He sneers.

"Hah. Thought you had a little more oomph in you, Trissy. I was looking forward to really getting the chance to work on you, but I guess it'll be easier this way."

I snort. "Easier to...?"

He smiles, wickedly. "To paint the ring red, Trissy." The hate in his eyes is plain.

The wild confidence building up in me is momentarily shaken. If I can't find a way to beat Peter, I'm doomed. By the way he looks at me, the way that every inch of his body wants to tear me apart, I know that he would have no qualms killing me in front of everyone. I need to find his weakness. Fast. I decide to go for his knees, hard and quick. I get the blow in and we both tumble to the ground. I'm better on the ground than him, so this might be able to give me an advantage while I look for that fatal flaw that I can really use. I land on top of him, in a powerful position. Peter is thrown, yet recovers quickly. I get a chance to land one sharp blow to his face before he flips me over, using his massive size advantage.

"Heh. There we go. I knew there was more of a spark in you," Peter teases.

He sits there for a moment, just relishing the fact that I'm stuck, helpless. Then, he rears up, preparing for a huge strike, the type of punch that could cause a me-sized dent in the floor, and a me-sized corpse in a grave. I notice it quick enough, though. I also notice that the backswing brings him off balance. I pull my legs back and shoot them out at him. He staggers back. Annoyance flashes across his face followed by a sinister promise.

I scramble up, only to be met by a crushing blow to my jaw. My tongue was caught between my teeth and the salty taste of blood, my own blood, fills my mouth. The red, coppery liquid fills up in my mouth and flows over my lips, which are slightly parted in a stunned, slightly grimacing manner. A drop hits the floor of the ring. The vibrant red blotch stands in stark contrast to the dusty grey of the rubbery ground.

"And so it begins." Peter growls hungrily.

"Screw you." I mumble, wiping blood off of my chin. It smears crimson on the back of my hand. The same crimson seems to reflect in Peter's eyes. It clicks. I have a plan. Peter's thirst for blood will be his undoing. I will make sure of that.

I drag myself onto my knees, just as a hulking size 13 foot swings down into my stomach with the force of a freight train. I flop back, landing painfully on my tailbone. I swallow the need to puke, and try to slow down my breathing as Peter leaps on top of me. He pins me down, using his immense weight to keep my torso stuck to the ground. He is already out of breath from the effort of his monstrous strikes.

He doesn't pay any attention to his pending fatigue, however. I barely have time to wrap my arms around my head in a defensive position before he starts digging back in. Blows rain about my entire body, and they start out as a downpour. I hold myself together, trying to block out the sensations that threaten to tear me apart and ruin my plan.

I hear Christina urge me to concede from behind me. I peek out from behind my protective wall of my arms. Her, Will, and Al are all huddled together. Their eyes scream pity. Four, on the other hand, doesn't seem phased at all. In fact, he seems confident. I decide to take it as a compliment, that he respects me, rather than he doesn't care about me. Cause that can't be true...Right?

I don't have time to examine the other faces around the room. Peter places a particularly jarring punch so that it knocks the wind out of me and forces my eyes shut.

I'm not sure how long I hold out like this, but I'm sure its a long time. Long enough for every inch of my body to hurt. Long enough for his downpour to slow to a drizzle. He's started to slow down, but as he loses gas, I realize that I have, too. Just staying curled up and fighting the pain takes a lot of energy. I guess this plan wasn't as fool proof as I first thought. Too late to back out now, though.

Peter hits me, again. It's easy to tell that his strength is sapped. "That kinda tickles, Peter," I tease.

I see the fire ignite in his eyes. "Oh yeah?" He growls. "How does this feel?" He rears up, preparing for a big strike, using up his last reserves. I use the space to wriggle out of his grasp, just as the blow comes down. Instead of hitting my unprotected gut, he instead slams his fist straight into my thigh, his effort spent pointlessly. His fist bounces of my muscle. It'll be sure to leave a nasty bruise, but it isn't a fatal injury by any means.

I leap up to my feet and catch him by surprise with a hard hook, straight to the face. He stumbles back, still confused. I hit him again, in his fleshy gut. His breath sucks in. He doubles over in pain. It feels good, doing this. Like I'm flying on pure adrenaline. I grab him around the neck, holding him in a headlock. I use my elbows to bash him in the face. I barely recognize the sticky red warmth spreading up my sleeve, blossoming from where my elbow makes impact with Peter's face. He is able to weakly to push me away, but he just slides back onto the rubber mat. I mount him, and just hit him. Again and again and again and again.

I lose myself in the feeling of flesh slapping flesh. The whole thing has a very dream like quality.

I am pulled out of my dream by a sturdy, rough hand yanking me off Peter. "Tris." It's my name, but it sounds like a command. I know only one person who can do that. Four. His blue eyes are clear, understanding. A stark contrast to the horrified gazes of the students surrounding the ring.

I notice the red sticky syrup dripping from my hands, sleeves, hair. It's blood. Peter's blood. I don't know how this is the first time this registers with me, but it is, and it hits me hard. I feel my breathing speed up. I look at the crumpled, beaten, bruised figure that Peter, my untouchable bully, has been reduced to. I did this. I feel sick to my stomach.

"Four." I answer hoarsely. My vision starts to swim, blending whites and black of the training room with the vibrant red of freshly spilled blood. It creates a sinister, yet beautiful painting in my mind. A masterpiece painted by me.

"Al. Drew. Molly. Take Peter to the infirmary." He barks. They immediately jump into action.

"Tris. Come with me," He murmurs. His voice is a soft song, meant only for my ears.

I oblige unsteadily. We barely make it out into the hallway before I bend over and throw up.

**A/N: That was sooo much fun to write. Leave a review if you loved, hated it, or have some suggestions that ****could make this story better. And don't worry, we still have a ways to go before the end.**


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